


Berkana

by Crazythatcounts, Digi_Wears_Goggles



Series: Alphabet Soup [1]
Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Gen, Long, Magic, tw mild body horror, tw mindfuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-14 16:43:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 66,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazythatcounts/pseuds/Crazythatcounts, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Digi_Wears_Goggles/pseuds/Digi_Wears_Goggles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, meeting new people means making new friends. It means adventures and laughter and companionship. </p><p>This wasn't one of those times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Co-written by Digi-writes-fanfics, better reached at: digi-writes-fanfics.deviantart.com

In retrospect, he supposed the night it had all started had been fairly average.

Then again, the term "average" when applied to their group really didn't fit the usual definition. In fact, between a vampire, a paranormal investigator, and himself, the zombie supposed a bystander would have been right to label them all as freaks. _'Of course',_ He found himself musing as glowing orange eyes flicked ahead to the paranormal investigator. _'I suppose Hanna doesn't put much stock in the opinions of random bystanders'._

The thought nearly made him smile as the undead man continued to follow Hanna's haphazard walk through a familiar, run down part of the city. Orange shoes struck a steady rhythm as he walked, the man's hands in his pockets. His gaze absently flitted about to catch glimpses of aged, run down businesses and trash that had probably been rotting for weeks before it went to Hanna and their other companion again. He supposed by this point they were all well acquainted with this trek, but he made a point of looking ahead anyway. 

_Someone_ had to watch where Hanna was going, after all.

Hanna himself seemed more interested in other things. Mostly, he filled the walk with sparse bursts of conversation that faded away into a observant silence every so often, during which he would look up at the sky as he walked, not even watching the way. Not like he really needed to, of course – he’d walked this same path thousands of times, and he knew he was probably going to walk it a thousand more. 

The vampire beside him, however, would have rather not been walking that path in the first place. Sure, Conrad was hungry, but that meant a visit to a certain jackass of a Doctor that wasn’t actually a doctor at all, so that just made him a general jackass. The _other_ thing on Conrad’s mind, as they turned a dark corner into a darker alley, was that he was traveling with Hanna, and Hanna had been going on about _case details_ and some kind of paranormal something. Conrad was damn sure that _once again_ he was going to get sucked into something he would rather stay out of. 

As the group continued on their trek, the undead man caught Hanna's ramblings regarding case details. These words gave him a moment’s pause, his brow furrowing as he considered their current situation. They had received notice a few days back regarding something that had apparently been eliminating various paranormal entities around the area. Seeing how "investigator" was in Hanna's job description, looking into the matter seemed to be right up his alley. Thus, they had a job to do, and for a job they needed information. Fortunately, Hanna had connections... though sometimes he wasn't entirely sure those connections were good things. This explained why they were going... but the zombie had to admit he was somewhat confused by Conrad's presence.

"Hanna," He spoke up for the first time in several minutes. "This thing that you were supposed to be asking Lamont about... it supposedly hunts paranormal creatures, right? If that's the case, is it really entirely wise to be taking Conrad along?" It wasn't that he had a problem with Conrad going, as he rather liked the vampire. It was just that Hanna had a rather spectacular talent for getting himself and those around him into danger, and Conrad seemed to be particularly unlucky in that area. Therefore, he felt it only seemed right to attempt to speak in the vampire's defense and perhaps make the vampire slightly less miserable.

"I'm _not_ going with you." Conrad spoke up. He was annoyed at the fact that, coincidence or not, he _did_ seem to be tagging along with them, though he was grateful at the attempt to _leave him the fuck out of this_ ,. He was also slightly annoyed that he had to go to Worth's with them in the first place. Maybe he could work something out with Lamont and cut out Worth entirely. "I'm just going to get food." Conrad refused to use the word blood, since it still felt weird in his mouth. "It just happens that, _once again_ , I'm getting thrown into this mess anyway." 

"Hey," Hanna was grinning, "maybe you just like traveling with us, subconsciously." The seething look of _fuck no I do not_ from Conrad didn't seem to faze the investigator as they turned another corner and made their way deeper into the alleys. 

The zombie shook his head as he caught sight of Conrad's death glare. He was starting to wonder if Hanna noticed these things or was just very good at not being bothered by it. Perhaps it was a bit of both, as Hanna seemed to have equal talent when it came to ignoring the suggestion of danger.

He supposed he would just have to keep an eye out as usual... not that such a thing really seemed to help, but he did try.

He kept his mouth shut for the rest of the trip, save for the occasional hum of acknowledgment if Hanna addressed him directly. In all, the whole situation was almost pleasant in its normalcy.

Perhaps it could be seen as a bit strange that such a scene could be considered normal, but again, they weren't exactly normal. The zombie couldn't help but reflect on how equally normal Worth's swearing seemed when they finally entered his rickety excuse for an office.

"God-fucking-damnit Hanna, you're late!" The doctor barked out as the group entered, his butchered Australian accent drifting from one of several backrooms. There was a loud crash, followed by several bangs and another wave of profanity.

"I can't wait all fuckin' day for you to prance in here on your shitty little sparkly red slippers from the Wizard of Oz or what-the-fuck-ever, I have a Goddamn schedule to keep!"

Hanna's friend couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow at the term 'schedule', but he opted not to point out that said schedule probably involved more trips to the local Seven-Eleven for alcohol than anything else. Some things were just best kept to oneself, particularly when Worth seemed to be in a less-than-fantastic mood.

Hanna didn't seem at all fazed at the various forms of profanity spewing from the doctor's mouth. Instead, he was more interested in searching the office for the man they actually came looking for. Lamont Toucey. "Yeah, sorry about that, we got distracted - Did Lamont leave?" Hanna didn't actually go _into_ the back room so much as hover outside the door. 

Yes, they had come for Lamont, assuming that where Worth was, the other couldn't be too far off. So Hanna waited for an answer, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, before going to wander around and check the less obvious places, like under the desk and underneath the plant. 

Conrad hovered by the threshold, not exactly wanting to go into the hell-hole of a office, but not being able to resist the hunger growing inside him. He also hoped - feebly, he figured, as the place seemed empty - that Lamont was there, so maybe this might be his last trip to the dingy office with the cancer laden Doc Worth.

"Yeah, bastard fuckin' left, said somethin' about other clients or something," Worth grumbled as he finally sauntered his way to the front of his office, hands shoved in his pockets. "He wrote shit down on the desk there though, so you can take that and--" He paused as his eyes fell upon Conrad in the doorway.

He blinked for a moment, then his mouth spread into a wide, terrible smile, rather like a shark that had just caught sight of a very terrified, neurotic fish. "Well, what d'we have here. Did somebody miss me an' come ta visit?" He snickered as he flopped into his usual chair, the poor abused thing squeaking heavily with the motion.

Conrad scowled, his mind only running a long list of profanities through his brain. "Like I'd fucking miss you." His grumble probably had a few more profanities whispered in between the words, but they went unnoticed. "If I could avoid coming here, I would." 

Hanna, meanwhile, had grabbed the paper with Lamont's handwriting on it and was reading it over, grinning like an idiot. Conrad noticed said grin and wasn't _exactly_ sure which grin he should be more concerned by - Worth's or Hanna's. Neither bode well for him, though. 

Worth let out a snort as he pulled a crumpled packet of cigarettes out of his coat pocket. "Right, 'course ya would. Unfortunately for you, I dun see you growing a pair anytime soon, so you'll be dealin' with my lovely presence for awhile. It's alright, it'll give ya an excuse to see me, that way you won't have to find some other schoolgirl way to hide your creepy fag affections," He shrugged as he finally extracted an abused cigarette from the packet, then popped it between his lips as his eyes darted over to Hanna. "'S that o' any use to ya? I can't fuckin' make heads or tails of it."

Hanna's zombie friend frowned as he peered over Hanna's shoulder, catching sight of a few words in Lamont's small, somewhat untidy scrawl. He wasn't quite sure what to make of it either, but he supposed if Hanna was smiling it was a good thing.

Hanna nodded excitedly, reading over the end of the paper before handing it to his zombie friend. Everyone was sufficiently distracted, so Conrad's resisted attempt to simply throttle Worth right then and there went unnoticed. "A lot of vampires have been just vanishing lately," Hanna explained to Worth, "though it's apparently not limited to just them." Hanna looked pleased. 

Maybe it was the idea that Hanna could do some Sherlock style super sleuthing. Maybe it was the fact that the general area was the city, in between where he, Conrad and Worth lived, with the occasional country kidnapping. Or maybe it was the fact that Hanna just couldn't see this case going horribly wrong. Find the kidnapper, find out why they kidnapped, and ask them to stop.

What could _possibly_ go wrong?

His partner's brow furrowed even as Hanna grinned. While the redhead seemed to consider nothing but the positives, all the zombie could do was wonder just what could manage to make so many vampires simply vanish without a trace. Whatever it was, it could not be good... and Hanna would most likely find it to be impossibly interesting, as was his custom. Suffice to say, it had the potential to be bad news.

Worth huffed as he pulled out a lighter and brought it to his mouth, finally lighting his cigarette. "That so? Sounds like a nasty time for the worst vampire in history to be out on the town. Not tha' I particularly care or anything, but maybe ya should start orderin' in, pup," He snickered as he took a long drag of the cigarette, then blew the smoke out in a long stream. 

"Then again, you probably don't count as a real vampire, so maybe your pansy ass is safe after all."

"There'd be just as much a chance of you making a house-call." Conrad snapped, not sure whether to reply with yes, he was a real vampire, even though that meant he was in danger, or no, he wasn't in danger, which meant he wasn't a real vampire. Luckily, Hanna decided for him. 

"Yeah, I guess for now you're gonna have to bring him his food instead of the other way around." Hanna chuckled. "We can walk Conrad home tonight."

Worth's eyes widened at this and he nearly spat out his cigarette. "Whoa, whoa, hold on for one bloody second!" He sputtered. "I was jus' jokin', I'm no one's Goddamn delivery boy!"

The zombie quirked a brow at the doctor's sudden outburst, "Well, what do you suggest, then? As you pointed out, it's dangerous."

"Feh, only for some pansy girl like him," Worth rolled his eyes as he spun around in his chair. "Look, if it's that much of a fuckin' crisis one of you assholes can bring him his kibbles n' bits, I dun care. It's not my fuckin' problem." He finished one rotation and paused to see the zombie staring at him, then let out a growl and folded his arms. "Stop looking at me like that. If one of you can't make it I'll send Lamont, okay? Get off my Goddamn case, this ain't in my job description."

“You almost sound like you care!” Hanna half cried, half chuckled, patting Worth on the shoulder. He turned to Conrad, who wasn’t sure whether to be mortified that he had to be cared for, or elated that his visits would be halted for the time being. “Let’s grab you enough blood for a week or so before we go. Maybe we can wrap this up before it becomes a problem.” 

Worth scowled as he cringed away from Hanna's touch, making a half-hearted swipe at the boy's arm before kicking his chair away and standing up. "Don't fuckin' kid yourself, it's not like I give a damn. Trust me, it's more like the less I see of your ugly faces, the better," He grumbled as he stalked over to one of the many cabinets and tugged it open. He continued to grumble under his breath as he dug through the contents of the cabinet, tossing the occasional object aside in his search for wherever he kept the blood.

Hanna's zombie friend listened absently to Worth's cursing, then shook his head. The doctor sounded irritated, but Hanna had made a good point. It was interesting to note that in spite of all his complaining and insisting that he didn't care, it wasn't exactly normal for him to show interest or put forth any real effort into much of anything. Worth was generally more apathetic and amused than truly angry, which made the zombie think that it was possible that the irritation was just an act when it came to the things he did actually care about. Or maybe the irritation was genuine and Worth really was a jerk underneath, he really had no idea. It was an interesting thing to consider, though.

"Awright, there ya go," The blond snapped as he quite suddenly tossed several crimson-filled bags over his shoulder. The fact that they seemed to be aimed for Conrad's face was most likely not an accident. "Ya have your fuckin' nibbles and your dumbass information, now get the fuck out! I have work to do, and I'd better not see you dragging any of your skinny asses back here whining about how the vampire killer got you or what-the-fuck-ever." He slammed the cabinet closed and turned to glare at all of them, but his eyes did linger on Hanna's for a moment.

"'M serious. I heard Lamont talking about this thing, whatever it is it's got all the little sparkly fairies diving for their holes. Don't do anything _too_ stupid, ya got me? I've had it up to here with cleaning up your mess," He growled out, pointing one long, grimy finger in the redhead's direction. His words were harsh and laced with profanity as always, but there was a very clear threat beneath it all that made Worth's thoughts quite clear: He pretty much expected to see them all again, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to curse up a storm in an attempt to keep Hanna from doing anything too stupid and potentially getting himself or the other two killed.

There was a passing second where it seemed that Hanna really took the words to heart, and he really did, especially considering it wasn’t just him in danger this time around, it was just about everyone he knew. When it came to his own life, Hanna didn’t exactly think ahead, but when it came to _other’s_ lives, it was a different story. “Don’t worry, Worth.” Hanna’s face broke into a grin – the honest kind, the kind that really thought there was no reason to worry – and then it shifted, becoming bright and cheery and optimistic. “We’ve handled worse before.” And then he was heading towards the door, hand raised in a cheery wave. 

Conrad was waiting for them outside, tooth buried in a bag, too engrossed in his dinner to care that his white vest was probably getting disgusting with the grime on the alley walls. 

"I'm not fucking worrying, I just 'dun want to deal with your whining, that's all!" Worth called after Hanna as he headed for a door, then gave a huff and reached up to grab his cigarette. He flicked some ash to the floor as his dark eyes met glowing orange. The two simply locked gazes for a moment, a silent message passing between them, a reminder of a promise that had already been made. Then Worth jerked his head toward the door and turned to head into the back room again, grumbling all the while.

The zombie gave a light nod as he turned to follow Hanna, ducking his head so he wouldn't run into the doorway on the way out. As soon as he stepped outside into the crisp night air he glanced over to Hanna, shoving his hands in his pockets. "What's the plan, then?"

“Well, let’s get Conrad home first.” Hanna nodded slightly to the vampire, who had managed to finish his bag in relative peace. “Then we can regroup there. You think we need to let everyone know what’s going on?” Hanna was talking and walking again, this time on the way out, yammering along at a speed Conrad didn’t attempt to follow. The vampire was, instead, trying to get his blood in order so he could carry it home without arousing too much suspicion. He was already rather suspicious looking anyway. 

He looked back where they came to make sure he hadn’t dropped anything, and his eyes lit upon something red. He tentatively stepped closer, finding it to be a ratty old crow doll with red eyes. He picked it up by a tattered leg and made something of a face at it. “What the hell…” 

“Whoa, Conrad, what’s that?” Hanna’s curiosity was suddenly piqued and all other conversation was forgotten as he turned back to inspect the interesting specimen of a crow Conrad now held in his hands. 

Hanna's zombie friend frowned as he peered over Hanna's shoulder at the plush toy, brow furrowing as he glanced down at the ratty thing. "I think someone is missing their doll," He commented as he glanced around the area, eyes falling upon an overflowing trash can and a few rotting magazines. "Or else they threw it away, at any rate." The second option seemed more likely, as the doll was quite abused and it seemed odd to imagine a child running through the area and dropping it.

Conrad was about to comment that no matter the case the thing really needed to be tossed - again, possibly - but stopped. There was scuffling from around the corner, a loud bang and then a muffled half-curse of some type. 

Hanna took a step towards the corner, marker already in his hand, though Conrad _swore_ he hadn't seen Hanna's hands move. 

And then a figure stumbled into view. A figure that was scanning the ground and apparently looking for something, but wasn't looking where he was going, for he ran right into the zombie. With a yelp, he hopped back and landed square on his ass.

The zombie blinked, his expression one of mild surprise as he stared down at the man who had run into him. He really wasn't sure why people kept doing that, was he really that much of a brick wall? "Oh, I'm sorry," He said, as if he were the one at fault for standing where he had been. "Are you alright?" The undead man reached out a gloved hand to the man in question, hoping his expression was one of concern as opposed to the apathy that normally colored his features.

The man stood, brushing off his backside with a laugh. "Ja, ja, I'm fine. I should look where I'm going, shouldn't I? Ack, ja, now, I was looking for something..." 

With those words, Hanna put the marker away, for any being that was that polite right off wasn't a threat. After tossing the crow to the zombie, he approached the strange man, who was currently rooting through the trash with a muddy boot, and stood by him, grinning welcomingly.

"What're you looking for, exactly?" The red-head asked. "We can help you look, and we'll all probably get home before sunrise, that way!" 

Suffice to say, it didn't take long for even Hanna to note that the stranger had oddly pointed teeth (two of them, much to Conrad's apparent dismay. He half hoped he wasn't the only one lacking in the vampiric hardware.)

The vampire never got the chance to answer, as at that moment a loud voice rang through the air. "Arma! Oh my gosh, you found her!" There was the sound of footsteps picking up speed, and the zombie glanced down the sidewalk to see a young girl jogging toward them, her white sundress flaring out behind her. She skidded to a stop in front of the group, panting, then looked up to the man holding the crow with bright, strangely golden eyes.

"Hello," The zombie said as he glanced down at her, raising a brow. He held up the crow doll, then looked back to the girl. "I suppose it would be safe to assume this is yours, then?" The girl nodded enthusiastically, her shoulder-length black hair fluttering with the motion, a grin on her pale face. Taking this as more than enough of an affirmative, the zombie offered her the doll.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!" The girl gushed as she snatched the crow from the undead man's waiting hands. She squeezed it so tightly it was somewhat impressive the abused thing didn't just pop, "Oh Arma, where have you been? I was soooooo worried!" She gave a spin as she rambled, then came to a stop and glanced over at the man going through the trash. The girl gave a huff as she put her free hand on her hip. "Larden, what on Earth are you doing going through the trash? You're so silly sometimes!"

"I was _looking_ for Arma!" The vampire - Larden - straightened and sighed. "I apologize, Lenore, I am not at my best today."

"So, I guess we did help you find what you were looking for!" Hanna laughed, hands in his pockets. Tonight was just getting better and better! A new case, super-sleuthing, and now a pair of possible new friends. 

Conrad, meanwhile, was staring at the "possibly new friends" from behind the zombie, looking rather... well, disgusted. One, he didn't want to think of why in hell's name there was a vampire that was who knows how old and a young child spending time together. No, not even going to get into that. 

"That... thing has a name?" Conrad asked, clearly referring to the thing which he still believed they should just _trash_ right then and there.

The girl, apparently named Lenore, turned to scowl at Conrad as she hugged the crow even closer. "Her _name_ is Arma, you big jerkface! Don't talk about her like that, it's just mean!" Her lips pressed into a pout even as she continued to glare up at the graphic designer.

"I'm sure he meant no offense, miss," Hanna's zombie friend put in, trying to smooth things over even as he looked between the girl and what appeared to be her vampire friend. She appeared to be a relatively normal child, no older than ten... so what on Earth was she doing in the company of a vampire?

Lenore let out another huff as she walked over to Larden's side, her small round nose sticking up in the air. "It was still very mean! He should apologize, shouldn't he, Larden?" Golden eyes flicked between the two vampires, her expression still a childish pout.

Larden nodded to Conrad, almost as both a warning and as a command. Conrad, however, did not appreciate ten year olds thinking they could order him around. Worth already thought he lacked a pair, and they were right outside his office, so if he heard _this_... 

"No!" Conrad bit his lip. Hanna didn't think to reach for his marker, but he could feel the tension in the air around them. "It's a _doll_ , it's not like it cares."

Lenore's eyes narrowed dangerously, her small hands clenching into fists. "It is _not_ just a doll!" She snapped, stomping her foot. "And if you don't apologize _right now_ , you'll be sorry!"

Hanna's zombie friend tried to get between Conrad and the angry girl, holding his hands up in a way that he hoped was non-threatening. The last thing they needed was a fight between Conrad and a small child... or perhaps a fight between him and the girl's strange friend was more likely. The vampire didn't seem likely to win against either of them, to be perfectly honest. "Ma'am, I apologize. I assure you he means no harm, it's simply been a difficult night."

The dark-haired girl continued to scowl, though her expression softened slightly as she cast her curious gaze upon the taller man. "That's nice of you, mister, but I'd like an apology from _him_ , not you." She pointed a small finger at Conrad. "What's your name, meanie?"

Conrad didn't think it was a good idea to be giving out his name to irate little girls with vampiric body guards. He also wasn't going to apologize. Bad night his ass. _Every night_ since he became a vampire was a _bad night_. 

Sadly, Hanna had a little less tact or common sense. "Conrad, I _really_ think you need to apologize." He said, just soft enough for him to think he was whispering, but just loud enough that everyone could hear him anyway. 

This included the dark haired vampire that was staring at them like he could memorize their faces, or catch them on fire with his stare.

Lenore's scowl faded as she caught Hanna's words. "Conrad, is it?" She asked as she cocked her head to the side. It seemed as if she were thinking for a moment, then she smiled, though it wasn't an entirely nice smile. "Interesting. And what's your name, kid? You seem a lot smarter than the jerkface here," She commented as she looked to Hanna.

"M'not a kid." Hanna mumbled. "I'm Hanna Cross." The sour look vanished quickly. He didn't quite read the smile for all that it was, though his hand rested on his back pocket where his marker was, because Larden was watching them all with the same, stoic, narrow eyed look he had been for a while, and it didn't look pleasing at all.

"Hanna? You can't be serious," The girl stared at him suspiciously for a moment. Upon realizing this was not in fact a joke, she promptly burst into giggles. "Oh my gosh, you are! That's your real name? That's so funny!" She snickered for a few moments, then pointed at the zombie in front of her. "Does he have a weird name too?"

"I don't have one," The zombie replied flatly, though his gaze was focused on the vampire behind the girl. Orange eyes met his gaze in a look that seemed equally threatening, as if daring him to harm the paranormal investigator and younger vampire behind him.

"Really? Woooow, you're just a group of weirdos, huh?" Lenore snickered as she gazed up at them. "Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to be rude. But really, it's only fair after you were so rude to Arma!"

Conrad's urge to throttle once again had to go ignored. Instead, he grabbed Hanna's wrist and started to drag him off in the direction of out. 

"Hey, whoa, where're you going so fast?" Hanna asked, trying to follow and not follow at the same time. 

"We're leaving." Conrad stated, simply but furiously, dragging Hanna along past the new pair, whom Hanna still hoped would be his friends. Conrad thought he had good reason to be pissed as hell - It was one thing to hurt a _doll's feelings_. It was another to be _insulted_ and then have it justified because of said rudeness to an inanimate thing. 

Larden watched them, hands shoved into his pockets, very stoic. He even met the zombie's protective gaze with a similar gaze of protectiveness. He reached out, very slowly, and put a thin hand on Lenore's shoulder, as if to make that point.

Orange eyes flicked from Larden to the girl, then the zombie gave a nod. He then turned and jogged a bit to catch up with Hanna and Conrad, feeling a sense of relief as they turned a corner and continued to route back to Conrad's apartment. They certainly had more than enough to worry about, and besides, Hanna had enough enemies. He certainly didn't need anymore.

Lenore let out a yelp as she watched them leave. "H-hey! You haven't apologized yet, come back here!" She stood there for a moment, then let out a growl of frustration and stomped her foot again. "Those jerks, I can't believe them!" She huffed as she crossed her arms before her. After a few moments of silence, save for the usual sounds of the city, her angered expression gave way to one of thought.

"Hanna Cross, hm? He seems like a very interesting kid... don't you think so, Larden?" She murmured as she glanced up at her companion.

Larden watched the corner, thinking as well. He had no idea what Lenore was planning, but he had a general feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

"Very interesting, indeed."


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days and nights were fairly uneventful by Hanna standards. Then again, that wasn't saying much.

Hanna and his zombie friend spent their nights scouring the town for any clues they could find on this vampire killer, but all they really managed to find was empty alleyways, some very annoyed vampires who really didn't feel up to answering any questions, a lot of trash and an interesting adventure involving a kitten and a spell gone awry. In the end they found themselves no better off than when they'd started, yet oddly enough that only seemed to make Hanna more excited. The zombie found himself feeling very puzzled as to what kept the redhead's spirits up, but he supposed he couldn't complain. After all, he preferred an enthusiastic, smiling Hanna to a dejected one, even if that enthusiasm was still over something worryingly dangerous.

Though right now he really wished the paranormal investigator would summon up some of that enthusiasm for his day job.

Orange eyes flicked absently to the ball of sheets on the ratty mattress that took up a large portion of the tiny apartment. He could see a small tuft of red hair peeking out from the ball, but aside from that there was no sign of the paranormal investigator. In fact, were it not for the occasional sporadic movements from the mess of sheets, the zombie would have wondered if Hanna was even alive in there. But the redhead was indeed alive, and more confusingly, he didn't seem to be rising at the scent of breakfast.

Apparently last night's adventure had left Hanna more tired than he let on.

The zombie frowned as he returned his attention to the eggs he was scrambling. "Hanna?" He finally spoke up, his low voice rumbling softly through the small apartment. "It's time to get up."

Hanna pulled further under the mass of blankets, burying his head against the mattress. He could feel his limbs – unfortunately already half awake without him – getting heavy with his own exhaustion. He could _smell_ the breakfast cooking away from the kitchen, and though his stomach rumbled, he didn’t think his legs would be able to get him in there. What he hadn’t told his zombie friend was that he was so wired from the adventure the night before that he really didn’t get to sleep until a few hours ago. 

If it weren’t for the fact that investigating was not a bacon-bringing sort of business, Hanna would have just skipped his day job all together. Sadly, he really couldn’t do that, because he, at least, did need to eat. 

His stomach rumbled again in agreement. _Yes,_ it said, _you need to eat. Right now, in fact._

Instead of listening, however, Hanna disappeared underneath the blankets entirely with a soft murmur of wanting more sleep. 

Hanna's friend gave a small smile at Hanna's murmured response as he pushed the scrambled eggs onto a waiting plate that already held a slice of toast. A single turn and two steps brought him to the other side of what was supposed to be a dining area, and he set the eggs down next to a cup of orange juice. After doing this he turned to face the mattress again, raising a brow as he realized the redhead didn't seem to be rising anytime soon.

"Hanna?" He spoke again. After another moment of silence he walked over to the mattress, brow furrowing as he stood over the paranormal investigator. "Hanna, I know you're tired, but you have work." He reminded gently.

Hanna grumbled something, but none the less removed himself from his sheets. It could be said that graceful was not his forte, as he managed to nearly remove the sheets from the mattress and his boxers from his hips before he tumbled to the floor. 

"Mmmph." He felt like curling in on himself and sleeping right there. But the intoxicating aroma of toast and eggs caught him. "Did you make scrambled eggs?" 

And before the zombie could answer, Hanna was on his feet, padding over to the table for breakfast. Because hey, if he had to get up in the mornings, he might as well enjoy the breakfast that goes with it.

The zombie chuckled to himself as he watched Hanna wander over to the table. "I did," He replied as he followed the redhead, crossing the small room in a few long strides. He waited for the redhead to sit down at the rickety card table that passed for their dining room table before he sat down himself, absently noting that his rusted folding chair was squeaking under his weight again. He was starting to think this chair was one of the worst they'd rescued from the dumpster, as they had several that were completely mismatched, but he really didn't mind as long as Hanna didn't. Personally, he was perfectly happy just sitting on the floor and leaving their former lone chair to Hanna, but the redhead had insisted.

Orange eyes went to the twenty-four year old seated across from him and the food in front of him, and the zombie couldn't help but feel kind of bad. There were scrambled eggs and toast, but there wasn't much. "I'm sorry, I wanted to make more but we seem to be out of just about everything," He apologized.

"Heh, don't worry about it, Lorenzo!" Hanna supplied, happily munching on his toast. Sure, it wasn't a buffet or three coarse meal, but considering what Hanna had been eating for breakfast before his zombie friend, it might as well have been an all you can eat dinner. 

"You can go to the store while I'm at work if it bothers you, though." The chipper face turned to his plate for just a second, thinking. The case had yet to be solved. The kidnapper was still on the loose. 

"If you do go out, you want to see if you can get Conrad more blood bags at some point? I know he'll probably be sleeping, but..." 

With what was the cause of the bother in Hanna's brain gone, the grin returned, and he went at his juice with a sudden will, laughing all the while.

The undead man across the table nodded. "Of course, I'll do that today. We can bring him the blood bags tonight so we don't wake him up," His brow furrowed slightly as he imagined Conrad's reaction to him showing up midday with blood packets. While the vampire would probably react less violently to his appearance than Hanna's, the zombie doubted he'd be terribly pleased.

He fell into silence after that, lacking much else to say. He was content simply watching Hanna enjoying his food, glad to see the redhead's lethargy seemed to have gone away.

The silence stretched a moment longer, before Hanna looked up from his toast, half sort of smile gracing his face. “Hey… You be careful, okay?” Hanna grinned, taking another bite of his toast, and then speaking with his mouth full. 

“Heh, you could probably beat up any kidnappers that tried, though!” He laughed through his toast as an image hit his mind and he scrambled to explain it. “They’d be like _we’re here for you Mr.…. what is your nammmeee?_ ” Hanna put on a deeper voice through his toast and giggles, making the occasional growl. He was trying – and failing – to sound menacing. “And then you’d just _bam!_ ” Hanna threw his fist in the air, reaching rather high for his height. “Right in the gut, that sucker wouldn’t know what--!” What Hanna hadn’t realized was that the momentum of throwing his weight up so high would tip his chair back, and with a clatter, he hit the ground. 

“… hit him.” Hanna finished his sentence as he rose to his knees, snagging the last bite of toast from his plate and stuffing it in his mouth. 

Hanna's zombie friend blinked in surprise as Hanna clattered to the floor, standing up on reflex to check and make sure he wasn't injured. When the twenty-four year old's face peeked up over the edge of the card table the zombie just shook his head. "I highly doubt it would be that exciting. You make me sound like some sort of superhero," The zombie murmured as he reached for Hanna's empty cup and plate, raising a brow in question so as to make sure the redhead wasn't about to lick the crumbs off or anything like that.

Hanna hopped to his feet, heading back into the main room to find his work shirt and some pants. "Well, you are the living dead, and you've decked Veser with a punch once, so beating up some kidnappers wouldn't be too hard, I bet." Hanna threw off his sleep shirt and pulled his work shirt over his head, the rest of his sentence lost in the fabric. 

"But yeah, that'd make you pretty super. You're like Batman!" Hanna tried to throw up his hands and put on his pants at once and failed at both. "We need to get you a mask if you're Batman, though."

The zombie gave a small chuckle as he set to cleaning off the plates, absently noting that the water pressure was actually decent in the faucet for once. "I don't think I'm Batman, Hanna. Besides, if I were, you'd be Robin, and I can't say I see you in a sidekick role," He said as he rinsed the plate off and set it on the drying rack. He gave a wince as he heard a loud bang from where Hanna was changing. He hoped the redhead wouldn't succeed in injuring himself before he even got out the door.

 

Hanna stood up from where he had fallen, zipping his pants and straightening his shirt. "Mmm, yeah. Wait, does that mean I'm Batman and you're Robin?" The unadulterated glee on his face was uncontainable. He grabbed his nametag from on top of his laptop and began fumbling with pinning it on. 

"Hey, since you're going out, you wanna walk to work with me?" He asked, once his nametag was on his shirt and his bleeding finger - stupid nametag - was in his mouth.

"Of course," His companion replied as he set the newly cleaned pans aside and turned his attention fully to the redhead. He quirked a brow as he spotted Hanna sucking at his latest injury. "I didn't realize the Dark Knight was so clumsy," He commented as he grabbed his black jacket from the chair where he normally hung it. "Or is that one of his well-kept secrets?"

 

"Batman has no need for nametags!" Hanna grabbed his key last minute from atop his laptop and headed for the door. "They are one of his many sworn enemies! This is why only Bruce Wayne goes to dinner parties, because he doesn't need to _wear_ a nametag." Hanna flung open the door and traipsed outside, taking a moment to run all the way down the hall, singing the Batman theme to himself, before stopping and waiting.

The zombie watched as Hanna rushed ahead, then shook his head as he grabbed his fedora and stepped out as well. He caught up with the redhead easily, walking in a leisurely, long stride that was in sharp contrast to Hanna's excited run. When he finally came to a stop beside the paranormal investigator he didn't look at Hanna at first, his gaze somewhere distant as he seemed to be deep in thought. 

"So, nametags are sworn enemies, hm? I imagine Batman has a lot of those." He paused to glance down at Hanna, then smiled. "I suppose this means Robin will have to keep a better look out."

"You will!" Hanna laughed. "However, I have already been caught by the dreaded nametag, and as long as I am this thing's captive I must do it's bidding!" Hanna stomped down the rickety steps two at a time as he talked animatedly. "You must go on without me, Robin, and do the shopping and whatever it is you do during the day!"

Hanna paused once outside, staring at the street. He turned to his zombie friend, confused and curious all at once. "What _do_ you do when I'm gone? I mean, you can't exactly take a noon time stroll, can you?" He laughed a little, grinning.

His companion shrugged as he followed the redhead down the stairs, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Nothing terribly exciting. Cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, more reading. Sometimes I do actually go for walks, head to the library and such... you'd probably find it all quite boring, really."

" _Sounds_ pretty uneventful." Hanna replied, starting down the street towards his work. The walk was short, so Hanna remained relatively slow paced compared to his earlier Batman fueled excitement. "You know what we need to do? We need to go see a movie. Like, an in-theaters movie. One of those old zombie flicks." Hanna chuckled, shoulders hunching slightly. "I'm gonna get a day off and we can do that, or go to the park or something."

His undead companion nodded in agreement, smiling once again. He personally didn't think his days were all that boring, but he certainly wouldn't mind the excursion. "I'd like that. You do keep saying I need to see those movies anyway." And it was true. Once the initial awkwardness over the fact that he _was_ a zombie had worn off, Hanna seemed quite enthused over the idea of forcing him to sit through as many old zombie movies as he could get his hands on.

 

Hanna suddenly did a skip, turning around to walk and talk at the same time. "You know what we need to go see? Paranormal Activity. I heard it's _terrifying_." Hanna held his arms up in an attempt at being scary. "We should have a sleepover at Conrad's and get everyone to watch it!" 

The young investigator was so enamored with taking his green friend to the movies that he walked right past his building, and upon noticing, quickly doubled back like nothing happened.

"I can't imagine Conrad would appreciate us inviting ourselves over to his house... " Hanna's friend trailed off a bit as he spoke, well aware that any points he made about Conrad's dislike of such things or the fact that the vampire might not even like the movie would probably be ignored. He was also distracted from the subject when he saw Hanna wander right past the department store where he worked, which lead to him hanging back at the doorway as he watched the redhead continue walking. He wasn't entirely sure if it was because he was being a distraction or if this was a common occurrence. Both seemed entirely possible.

When Hanna finally wandered back, he stopped right in front of the door and the zombie, smiling. “Thanks for walking. I’ll rent the movie on the way home and we can go to Conrad’s and watch it tonight, what do you say?” Hanna’s enthusiasm would not stand for any acknowledgement of Conrad’s possible dislike of the movie or the intrusion, for it knew that with enough bothering Conrad would give up trying to force them out and just stay out of their way. 

And of course, who was Hanna' zombie friend to try to argue with that enthusiasm? The undead man found himself smiling again as he took a step back and nodded. "I'd like that. And please be careful today, I'd rather not have to explain to Worth how you hurt yourself because you managed to somehow topple a shelf again."

"Hey, that was an accident and those squirrels are out to get me." Hanna reminded, pouting a little before the quirk of a smile returned to his face. "You be careful too, okay?"

Hanna's friend nodded, and with that and a light half wave he began his trek to the grocery store. As he walked he again found himself musing on Hanna's words. The redhead actually told him to be careful a lot, which he found somewhat ironic. Hanna was the one always running into danger, after all, and of the two of them he was decidedly more fragile. Personally the zombie felt if anyone should be careful in this situation, it _should_ be Hanna. But Hanna always seemed more concerned about him, which he personally found somewhat ridiculous... but he supposed it was only fair. If he was going to spend his time worrying about Hanna, he supposed he at least owed the redhead the courtesy of showing some caution himself.

After all, what was Hanna going to do without him?

\---

The trek to the grocery store was fairly uneventful, as far as these things went. The zombie had found without Hanna tagging along he was unlikely to get into any surprise adventures on the way, and getting through the store was considerably easier without Hanna grabbing at whatever happened to catch his eye. He didn't really mind Hanna tagging along, as it _was_ technically the redhead's money and their adventures were always amusing (and of course, with Hanna any trip to the grocery store really was an adventure) but sometimes it was good to simply get these chores out of the way.

That and there was a sale on most sugared cereals in the store and the zombie didn't even want to think about how things would have gone if Hanna had been there. He did buy a box of Count Chocula though, because he could hear the excited comments in his head already and who was he to deny such things?

After paying for the items the undead man began his trek home, bags in hand. It was a fairly nice day and he found himself reflecting on this as he gazed up at the blue sky, not really paying attention to the familiar path. It really was a shame Hanna had work today, perhaps he'd be able to get out early enough to at least enjoy some of the sunshine. The redhead seemed to primarily be a creature of the night, and this seemed unfair somehow.

With all his musing, he didn’t notice he was being followed at a safe distance. The man following him somehow blended in even wearing Victorian type clothing and long sleeves on a hot day. Said dark haired man was smiling almost sweetly for being such a stalker. Well, they did know each other, so it wasn’t so much stalking as following the zombie home, but either way, Larden was happily striding along ten feet behind. He wasn’t going to think of his orders. Not quite yet. 

This stalking continued for some time, and for awhile it seemed that the undead man was completely unaware that he was being followed. He just continued walking, head seemingly in the clouds as he allowed his thoughts to wander. A few blocks from home, however, he, stopped, then let out a sigh. "I don't really see what the point is in following a dead man, but you may as well show yourself," He said without turning around.

Larden simply kept walking until he was level with the zombie, hands in his pockets. He had a hood on - of course, since it was broad daylight - and gloves peaked from the edge of his pockets. 

"I would, _natürlich_ , but ash was... never my favorite color." His toothy smile was visible under the hood, and he chuckled at his own bad joke. "We have met, though, _vorher_ , er, before. In the alley way. You located _die Krähe_ , Arma. Lenore's stuffed pet?" The hope in his voice was less hope that the zombie would remember him - though there was that - and more hope that he had really made sense. He wasn't terribly fluent in English, even with studying.

The zombie quirked a brow as the hooded man paused next to him and grinned. The yellow eyes and blue-ish black hair beneath the hood were familiar enough, though the joke was certainly different from the silent glare he remembered. It really was a terrible joke, though if Hanna had been there he probably would have laughed. "Ah, yes, you would be the vampire from the other night then," He said with a nod. "I confess it's a bit strange to be seeing you walking about in daylight... or following me, for that matter."

Larden shrugged under the hood. "Yes, I understand. I... actually have something I wish to, ah, speak to you about. May we, though, take leave to... _ihr haus_ , er... your home? It is quite stifling under this hood." 

There was a pause and a brief scuffle of feet against the street. "I would like to apologize for the other night. I am... how do you say... It's not that I don't quite like him, _wenn sie_... ah, fond! I am not quite fond of your vampire friend. I must admit he... put me on edge. He is not... friendly, is he?"

The undead man nodded and motioned for the vampire to follow him with a barely perceptible jerk of the head. He'd already been considering inviting Larden along, as the vampire seemed harmless enough and if he had something for Hanna or anything like that it seemed polite to at least get him out of the sun. "There's no need to apologize. Conrad was not in the best of moods," He said as he continued his walk. The zombie was aware that technically Conrad was almost _never_ in the best of moods, but he decided this detail was best kept to himself. "I assure you he's a kind person once you get to know him, however."

"Ja, ja. Bad night, of course. I was, ah, worried, though. For Lenore. She... one tends to forget that she is ten, you know? I am... uh, _Wächter_... over protective?" Larden shrugged, following the zombie down the street at a brisk sort of gate. "If that... makes any sort of sense. I apologize for my lack of... talking skills. I am not the best at remembering my _Englisch_." He laughed softly under the hood, shaking his head.

The zombie shook his head as well as he opened the door to the crumbling apartment complex, wincing inwardly as he heard the rusted hinges squeal. "You're clear enough, don't worry about it. I understand what you mean... I suppose you could say I've got a similar sort of experience," He gave a small smile as he held the door open for the vampire and nodded, inviting him in.

When Larden stepped inside, he stepped into a shadow and flung off his hood. His hair was plastered to his forehead - not from sweat, but from where the warm water vapor had condensed against his cold skin. He looked around the building with a small smile on his face, hands back in his pockets. 

"Ah, this is very... humble?" Larden half-asked.

His companion smiled as well. "I suppose that's one way of putting it," He said as orange eyes glanced absently over the now familiar cracking plaster and the bare lightbulbs hanging from what he knew to be an incredibly leaky ceiling. "We can talk in the apartment." With those words the zombie led the way up the creaking stairs, taking care to avoid the fourth step that was infamous for its worrying shake and motioning for the vampire to do the same. They made their way up to the apartment in relative silence, and the zombie found himself feeling very grateful that this was around the time when Hanna's terrifying neighbor took her afternoon nap. The last thing he wanted to deal with was another horrifyingly lewd conversation with her.

He pushed his way into Hanna's apartment and set the grocery bags down on the counter. "Ah, come in," He nodded to the vampire in the doorway, thankful that he'd managed to tidy the place up as best he could the other day. Not that cleaning really did much for the place, but he tried.

Larden nodded, stepping over the threshold and removing his hood, draping it over his arm. He opened his mouth to comment politely on the rather... shabby apartment, with the mattress on the floor and no desks and that most certainly was a card-table, but finding nothing polite was going to come out of his mouth and completely incapable of being rude, he closed it rather quickly, following the zombie into the kitchen and taking a seat on the end of the counter. Mostly because he was afraid the card table wouldn't support him.

The zombie quirked a brow at the vampire's seating choice, but chose not to comment. After putting the few items that needed to be kept cold into the refrigerator and noting the machine seemed to be having one of its lukewarm days with a mental sigh, he turned to his guest. "I suppose we should get down to business then. What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" He inquired as he folded his arms before him.

Larden glanced down at his shoes, letting them tap lightly against the side of the counter. He fidgeted slightly, shifting his weight on his hands. He glanced up briefly, and then went back to surveying the kitchen, shifting again. These were the times when Larden desperately wished he planned better. 

"I... well, actually..." He chuckled. "I did not expect you to... to _glauben_... uh, believe me so.. the first time." He hopped off the counter, leaving his hood behind, and removed his gloves. "I was... hoping, I think the word is.. anyway, hoping that... I could avoid this. For a little, at least."

His cold hand set itself on the zombie's shoulder. " _Es tut mir leid, dass_... I am so sorry..."

And the rune on his hand began to glow a dark gold.

The zombie was on edge the instant Larden had started trailing off, noting the new tension in the formerly easy-going vampire's voice. It was then that it occurred to him that his earlier suspicions _may_ have been correct and in retrospect it would have been wiser to not lead a vampire directly into his home. Perhaps he'd grown too accustomed to "friendly" vampires after all. His eyes narrowed as the hand suddenly landed on his shoulder and he unconsciously tensed, his body quite used to reacting to situations that went sour all too quickly. Unfortunately, he _wasn't_ accustomed to what happened next, so his surprise was complete when the strength quickly drained from his limbs.

Glowing orange eyes widened in surprise as long dead limbs suddenly went completely rigid and his head arced back as if he'd been shocked. There was a sensation rather like a burst of cold that crawled through his veins in a frigid rush, as if he'd suddenly been plunged in ice water. "What..." He managed to choke out, his voice a low rasp as he collapsed to his knees.

He never got to finish his sentence though, as for the first time in a long time he lost consciousness. The zombie toppled to the ground, dead weight hitting the dirty linoleum with a heavy _'thud!'_


	3. Chapter 3

The steps creaked loudly under the heavy checkered feet as Hanna raced up the stairs to his apartment. Hours had passed, work had ended, the sun was going down and Hanna had an armful of various movies to watch at Conrad’s place later that night. After renting the three horror flicks, which, admittedly, was a lot harder than necessary to do because they refused to believe that Hanna was over seventeen, Hanna had run straight home, full pelt. The scrape on his knee was testament to his inability to not get hit by speeding cars, but Hanna wasn’t going to exactly tell his zombie friend that. 

“Cecerio!” Hanna blindly called into his apartment, opening the door. He turned to close it, juggling the movies under one arm, keys in his mouth, stifling his speech into mumbles. “I got the movies, let’s take something for dinner and go ahead over to Connie’s, it’s already dark so he’s probably been awake for hours.” Hanna chuckled, taking the keys from his teeth and turning to find the apartment’s silence his only company. 

“Dante?” Hanna asked, dropping the movies onto his mattress and moving slowly around the apartment. Still, there was silence. “Heh, he must still be at the store…” Hanna’s thought process trailed off at the sight of the fresh groceries still on the counter, bagged like they had been only just brought in. Hanna inspected them, brow furrowed. He found, through his inspection, that the perishables, or at least, what Hanna thought were perishables, were already in the fridge. 

He glanced around the apartment briefly. No signs of a struggle – hell, it was _clean. He must have just forgotten something at the store and went back to get it. He’ll be back in a few._ Hanna rationalized, heading over to sit at the card table with the box of sugared cereal. Considering he just returned from his day job, he was starving, and who said sugar for dinner was bad?

That was until he noticed the folded slip of paper resting in the center of the table. Folded to near perfection and creased tightly, it looked almost too deliberately placed to be a grocery list of some type. 

Hanna gently unfolded the note, eyes skimming over the curly script quickly. 

The sudden spurt of energy knocked the cereal onto its side and the door slammed shut on an ever quiet apartment. 

\---

The mansion was eerily quiet, as it tended to be throughout most of the day when it's louder occupant was out. Without that person the place seemed almost too big, empty and silent as a tomb save for the continuous ticking from an ancient grandfather clock in the entrance hall. The sound reverberated off of clean, crisp walls, polished marble countertops and antique furniture, echoing through the place like a heartbeat. In all it was fancy, very upscale, and strangely cold.

A bit of that coldness lifted when the heavy, oak front door creaked open, the sound echoing through the hallway. It wasn't nearly as loud as the voice that joined it, however.

"Laaaarden, I'm hoooooooome!" Lenore's voice easily reached every corner of the gigantic mansion as her beaming face peaked through the doorway. She stepped inside onto the polished marble floor, the skirt of her school uniform fluttering as she slammed the door a bit too loudly behind her. She instantly dropped her bright purple schoolbag in the middle of the entryway and began to wander throughout the mansion.

"Didja bring my my present?" She called as she kicked off her black school shoes, stocking feet padding across very expensive, steam-cleaned carpet. Upon receiving no response, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Larden?"

"I'm in - _Scheiße_ \- the bathroom, Lenore!" Larden's distinct accent filled the space, muffled slightly. "Ah, I did get... _der tote Mann_ , er, your present. It is in the study. Is the sun down yet?" 

His muffled footsteps could be heard crossing the floor, heading Lenore's direction, and then the clatter of kicked off shoes on hard wood. "The, ah, cleaning room is very bright _und_ my cloths need, ah, washing."

Lenore's grin widened and she clapped her hands together, hopping up and down due to sheer glee. "In the study!? Yay, thank you so much Larden!" She rushed toward the room in question, then paused at the doorway to glance out one of the large windows. "Yeah, the sun's down, you should be fine. Why do you need to clean your clothes?" Her smile became a frown as she leaned against the doorway, folding her arms before her. "What, did you roll in the mud or something? I _told you_ to make this clean, Larden,"

The bathroom door creaked open and Larden stepped out, one hand occupied in trying to wrap the other in a bandage. Mud was the least of his worries. He had a black eye blossoming dark reds and purples under his hair, there was a smear of dark blood down his face, and his clothes were splattered with the same dark stain. His lip was split, he had a gash across his face, his pants were ripped over skinned knees, and the now bandaged hand was obviously broken. 

These were, of course, just the visible damage. His vest was open and hanging on his arms, and his shirt was hastily buttoned under that, as though he had been poking and pressing more dark bruises across his chest. His tie hung loosely about his shoulders, and there was a grin on his face - a tooth missing where a molar would be. 

"I did try, I promise." He finished the knot using his teeth and his fingers before speaking again. "But, ah, body bags look ...appealing, I think it's the word, to _diebe_ and muggers, apparently. And... heh, I guess I am an easy target." He shrugged, fixing the wayward buttons on his shirt.

Lenore gaped at him for a moment, her golden eyes wide with horror."Larden!" In an instant she rushed over to the vampire, throwing her small, thin arms around him in a tight hug. This may have actually been hurting him more, but the little girl didn't seem to realize this. She buried her face into the vampire's shirt, small fingers grasping at the blood-soaked material. "Why didn't you defend yourself if they were just regular thugs? You could have beaten them, you know that!" She exclaimed, voice muffled.

Larden hid a wince behind a grin and gingerly patted Lenore's hair with his unbroken hand. 

"You know how I am about hurting people." He explained softly. "And to admit a truth, I... stood very little chance." His chest shook a little with chuckles. "Now, I... think new cloths are in order, ja? Before you get blood on your uniform."

Lenore frowned as she heard Larden's voice rumble from his chest, biting her lip at his words. She then took a step back, her gaze going to the floor, seemingly lost in thought. After a moment she nodded, as if she'd made up her mind. "You're right. No sense in wearing this right now, I've got a job to do." There was something terrifyingly serious about her voice, something decidedly unchildlike.

Without another word she turned and raced upstairs, the sound of her quick footsteps echoing through the mansion.

Larden trotted after her softly, heading to his own room and changing quickly behind closed doors. The large brown sweater looked a little odd on him, but considering his other favorite cloths were going in the wash...

With the things he needed to do done, he approached Lenore's room and considered knocking on her door. He considered asking if she knew if there was any more blood left in the house because he was starved and he'd have a nice black eye until he fed, but something about being so vulnerable in front of this... small woman that so freely ordered him around and he so freely followed seemed so... wrong. So he didn't. He didn't ask. 

"I shall... go check on... ah, the prisoner, unless... there is anything you wish of me?"

The dark-haired girl rather suddenly came bursting out of her room, the door nearly smacking poor Larden in the face. She stood in the doorway with a heavy book clutched in one arm, her free hand thumbing through the pages. She paused in her search to glance up at the vampire, frowning for a moment. "You wouldn't happen to remember what any of those people looked like, would you Larden? If you have a name, that'd be especially _fantastic_ ," She smiled sweetly as the final word left her mouth. With that smile and her usual white sundress, she appeared to be the very picture of innocence.

Unless you knew better.

"Well, there was... that vampire. Conrad." Larden murmured, hands now in his pockets as he thought. "And, uh, Hanna. The one that... intrigued? Intrigued you so much."

Lenore gave a giggle as she walked past Larden, thumbing through the book some more. "No, no, silly, although I'll need those names for later. I was talking about those guys who beat you up."

"I don't... remember them." Larden winced at what he did remember. Shoes, mostly. Shoes, the fresh smell of blood, cold concrete and gravel. His stomach protested the memory. Blood. Jesus. "I... if you're done... I'm going to, ah, go check on the... dead man." With those words, he started down the hall to the study.

The little girl beamed and gave a light wave as he headed down the hall. "Have fun~!" She called after him. "Please be careful, I don't want my toy broken just yet~!" With those words she turned and began to walk in the opposite direction, humming a light, airy sort of tune as she turned the pages of her book. "Now where's that location spell?" She muttered as she made her way down the stairs, pale fingers tracing absently along the banister. It was vitally important that she found it, after all.

No one hurt her Larden and got away with it.

\---

He had to wonder if that stain was new.

Worth frowned, brow furrowing as he squinted up at the blueish green stain on the ceiling. It appeared to be fairly recent, or at the very least he didn't remember seeing it before. This wasn't exactly uncommon, but most stains in his office admittedly came in variations of brown, green and black. Blue was certainly more uncommon, so he had to wonder just what the source for that particular hue was. Had Hanna spilled something? Maybe he had, but it wouldn't explain how the stain had gotten on the ceiling.

"Hm," The blond cocked his head to the side and gave a lazy spin in the office chair he and Lamont had stolen from the Xerox building down the street, the smoke from his cigarette trailing after him in a hazy circle. It wasn't that he particularly cared about the less-than-clean state of his office. Well, alright, that was a lie, he reveled in the layers of filth that covered the walls. It was just that most stains tended to have semi-interesting stories, and in his office they seemed to involve violence and alcohol and that usually made everything better. He also didn't have much else to do at the moment, as 'business' seemed to be rather slow. He didn't particularly care if things was slow or not, since that was just how things went, but admittedly it didn't leave him with a lot to do. Maybe he'd close up for a bit and head down to the seven eleven, the Indian guy behind the counter was always good for a laugh at least...

But that idea of even a moment’s repose out of the office was shattered when the door flung itself open, banging listlessly against the opposing wall and letting in a bullet train of red hair, work shirt and ripped jeans. Said bullet train managed to pull himself into a full stop without toppling backwards to the floor, leaning on his knees for support as he panted, lungs working overtime to compensate for the full out run he just committed. In his tightly balled fist was a crumpled piece of paper, a once perfectly folded note with curly script and menacing detail. 

Hanna opened his mouth to speak, to shout, to tell Worth what had happened, but he couldn’t find the breath, so he gulped down more air instead, hands shaking against his kneecaps. What compelled him to have to tell Worth, he didn’t know, but there was no one else to go to and he couldn’t really think too much for there was a single line repeating itself through his brain again and again. 

“Worth!” Hanna finally gasped out, only moments after entering, looking up at the blond Doctor he so trusted, “He’s gone! Giovanni’s been kidnapped!”

The doctor in question very nearly jumped out of his skin when Hanna came banging in, and as he'd been leaning back on his chair when Hanna entered this jump proved to be enough to ruin his precarious balance. Worth toppled over with a curse, his head and the back of his chair connecting quite solidly with the disgusting floor.

"God-fucking- _damnit_ , Hanna, what did I tell you about this shit!?" He snarled from the floor, reaching up with grimy fingers to clutch at his throbbing head. "Don't slam my fucking door like that! Do you just _want_ to give me a fucking heart attack or a concussion or some shit like that? _Jesus Christ_!" As he cursed the doctor grabbed the top of his desk and pulled himself to his feet, dusting the worst of the grime off of his fur-lined coat. He paused to grab his still smoking cigarette from the floor and glanced over it for a second. Apparently deeming it safe, he popped it back into his mouth before continuing his rant. "This had better be a good fucking scrape or you'd better be missing a kidney or something so help me I will be the one to-- yoooooou are not gushin' blood all over my floor." Worth's tirade came to a stop as he finally got a good look at the panting Hanna, dark eyes narrowing.

He watched the redhead pant for a moment as his aching brain caught up with what had happened. He blinked once. "Wait... what? _Who?_ What the hell're you talking about? Slow the fuck down and explain like a _sane_ person, Hanna," He said as he took a seat on the desk, folding his arms before him. "What the fuck happened and where's man's best friend?" He inquired as he jerked his head to the spot where he expected Hanna's zombie companion to be.

"He's gone." Hanna tried again, speaking slowly. He held out the crumpled note, fingers trembling from the run. "He's been... kidnapped. I came home and-and I thought he'd just gone back to the store but then I saw the note." The quick ramble of his voice returned for the last sentence. He sort of flopped down to the floor, not wanting to stand any longer, the adrenaline leaving his system slowly but surely.

Worth frowned as he snatched the crumpled note from Hanna's hand, grimy fingers clenching around it. He unfolded the piece of paper, eyes darting back and forth as he read thing. " _'Come to wear house 48B tomorrow at midnight. Bring your vampire friend if you ever want to see the dead man again.'_ " He read aloud around his cigarette, brow furrowing. "...The fuck? Who the hell kidnaps a walking dead body?" He muttered as he ran a hand through his short hair. "Especially yours. It's not like you have money or anything."

Hanna didn't respond. Now that the high from the run was wearing off, a level of panic was settling in. His friend was in danger and it was most likely his fault. The zombie was always worrying over him, and Hanna had never really considered that anything terrible would happen to his friend. The undead man could take care of himself, or at least Hanna had thought so. 

_Well_ , Hanna thought, seated on the disgusting floor, the images from the walk to work flooding his brain, _I've fucked up again._

_Now, how am I going to fix this?_

Worth watched Hanna sit there in silence for a bit. Seeing Hanna with such a dark expression really just wasn't right, and seeing him without his dead shadow was even weirder. It was strange to think that though he'd found the dead man's presence somewhat odd, he'd grown used to the zombie trailing behind the exuberant Hanna. Hanna without the undead man suddenly seemed a lot smaller, almost as if he'd lost a part of himself, and the obvious sadness wasn't helping. He'd seen that expression a lot less after Hanna's zombie friend had come around, and he wasn't terribly pleased to see it return. The kid was annoying at the best of times, but the doctor preferred that to this Hanna. This one was ten times more annoying. 

"Alright kid, snap the fuck out of it," He said as he stretched, arching his back so it cracked. Then he stood up from the desk and wandered around it, standing over the redhead with the note. After standing there in silence for another moment he gave a sigh, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and flicking ash onto the floor.

"Can't believe I'm doing this. Dunno why you came to me, I'm not Sherlock Fucking Holmes," He muttered as he stuck the cigarette back between his teeth. He paused for a moment as he considered this. "Lamont'd make a terrible Watson. _Anyway_ , let's be rational here or whatever. I'm aware this is not your thing, but use your brain for once," He held the crumpled note over Hanna's head. "This is some fancy Goddamn script and paper, looks real clean. 'S not exactly like those gayass newspaper clipping notes. Was there a fight in the apartment or anything?"

“Nothing was broken.” Hanna hopped to his feet. “If it weren’t for that note I’d still be waiting for him to get back from the store.” Hanna found a smile creeping onto his face. “Though, you’d make a better Holmes than I would.” He chuckled. He felt… odd. Alone. There wasn’t a presence at his shoulder like there always was. He was missing his Watson, his Robin. If the zombie were here, there would be a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. His shoulder suddenly felt oddly light and the smile fell. 

Worth scowled as he watched the smile fall. He wasn't used to dealing with sad Hanna, it was just frustrating and to put it frankly he really didn't feel up to it. Not to mention they probably didn't have time. "Oh, b'aaawww, someone call the whambulance. Cut that out, I need you to fucking focus and stop pining for your missing half," He growled as he jabbed a finger in Hanna's direction. "Okay, now if nothing was broken that's just fuckin' weird. That dead man of yours can deal a decent punch and I can't see him willingly letting himself get kidnapped... so what the fuck happened?" His brow furrowed as he leaned back against the desk and gazed up at the ceiling, watching his cigarette smoke pool into a heavy, dingy cloud in the air. He had to admit he was curious... what the hell was capable of making a zombie just disappear?

He let out a smoke-filled sigh. "Alright, no use there. Have either of you stepped on anyone's toes lately? I doubt he has, but knowing _you_ admittedly I'm impressed you haven't been dragged off to have the shit kicked out of you." He said as he looked to Hanna again, eyes narrowing.

Hanna thought for a long, long moment. "There was this... pair, that we met, outside your office. We didn't piss them off, exactly... but Conrad sorta insulted the little girl's stuffed bird and never apologized." Hanna shrugged. "She had a badass looking bodyguard, though."

Hanna suddenly reached out for the note. "Wait, that said bring a vampire friend with us, right?" He stared at the page like it would punch him in the face and like the last time he asked for such, bring about good things.

Worth quirked a brow as he handed the note back to Hanna. "Yeah, it does... I dun' see why some damned kid would kidnap your friendly neighborhood zombie though. I mean, I wouldn't put it past Confag to get his ass handed to him by a little girl, but that doesn't seem to be the case here," He frowned thoughtfully as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Though if she had a bodyguard... huh..."

After a moment of silence he shrugged. "Well, doesn't seem like you're getting any answers just standing here. I'd say it's pretty damn clear what you've got to do."

Hanna looked at the note and then up at Worth. "Yeah. C'mon, let's go get Conrad." Hanna was already heading towards the door, not waiting to see if Worth was following but assuming he was anyway.

Worth wasn't following though. He just kind of stood there, eyebrows raised at Hanna's suggestion. "Hold it, you actually think I'm _comin' with you_? Yeah, no, fuck that. D'ya think I'm some kind of fuckin' rescue service!?" He let out a snort and shook his head. "Christ, I already played Sherlock for you, an' that's outside of my fucking job description! Nuh uh, I don't do the knight in shining armor shit, you know that." He paused to take a long drag of his cigarette, then jabbed the glowing end in Hanna's direction.

"You got yourself into this shit, you can get yourself out. And I damn well had better not have to sew your little ass back up when it's over, you got me?"

It was the closest to well wishes that Hanna was going to get. The situation was weird, yes, but there were some things that Worth did not do. Getting involved in dirty business that was decidedly not his was one of those things. He fixed the messes that came to him, he did not go out seeking them.

Hanna turned, hand gripping the threshold. His face was set into something rather determined, with a smile playing lightly at his lips. He didn’t know why he expected Worth to come with him, and the man had every right to say no. Maybe it was the fact that he felt wrong, not having a partner beside him now. Before, he had Worth to fall back on, and that was alright. He didn’t have what he had now – he didn’t have friends that actually cared if he nearly lost an arm to a rabid unicorn or anything of the like. Now he did, but he was so used to having that second party behind him as his fall. He was used to having the zombie there so that he could rush in recklessly like he was so wont to do and know he was going to come out of it. 

_For once_ , he thought, _I’m going to have to keep myself safe._

The smile grew a little on his face at the thought. “Yeah, just as well. If you get hurt in all of this, whose going to patch me up later?” He laughed.

"Tch," The doctor rolled his eyes at Hanna's comment as he put his cigarette back between his teeth. "I'd better not have to, you fuckin' owe me as it is. I'll say it again, don't do anything _too_ stupid or so help me I will kick your skinny little ass _far_ worse than whatever stole your heterosexual life partner. Ya got me?" Dark eyes met bright blue for an instant, the doctor's lips pulled into an angry sneer as he did his best to make his threat sound like more than just empty words.

Because when it came to Hanna doing stupid stunts, empty threats were all he really had.

"Don't worry, Doc." Hanna smiled bigger than before, turning completely around to face the not-quite-a-doctor. "If it's who I think it is that kidnapped Alonso, then I think I can get him back and no one gets hurt."

"Uh huh. I'll believe it when I see it," Worth muttered as he hopped up from his desk, then turned to head to the back room. He knew better than to buy the idea that no one was going to get hurt, but it wasn't like he was going to do anything about it. "Go on, go play hero or whatever. You'll be alright."

The reassurance was enough for Hanna to feel better about the situation. Yeah, he was missing his partner, but Worth still had his back if things went wrong. But things wouldn't go wrong and Hanna would make damn sure of it. 

So with a wave to no one, he headed back out into the world to find Conrad and fix this pile of shit he had landed everyone into.

Worth heard the door close, then let out a sigh as he leaned against the wall. How was it he always ended up saying crap like that when Hanna was involved? It was downright aggravating, really. "Christ, what a mess," He muttered, running a grimy hand through his hair. Dark eyes went up to the stain on the ceiling once again as he pondered over the events. Then he shook his head. He wasn't actually getting worked up about this, it wasn't like he was worried or anything. For all of his stupidity, Hanna was at least _semi_ -capable, and the doctor knew that better than anyone. Sure, it had been awhile since the redhead had been without a partner, but he'd been alone before. Hanna could take care of himself if he had to, Worth knew that much.

At least he _hoped_ that was the case.

"Goddamn kids," Worth muttered as he continued making his way to the back room. "I'm getting too old for this shit."


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing he was aware of was the fact that his head hurt.  
  
That in itself was a bit of an alien sensation, as the undead generally did not experience things like headaches. Certainly, he could still feel physical pain, but waking up to a throbbing in his temples was a bit of a new experience.  
  
The second thing he was aware of was the fact that he couldn't move his arms. This was also quite strange. A bit of movement revealed a tight, rough something was pulled around his wrists, keeping them together and restricting his movement. Probably rope, or at least he assumed this was the case. The zombie's brow furrowed as he finally forced his eyes open, blinking as his glowing eyes adjusted to the soft, warm light of the room.  
  
There were a lot of books. Another somewhat alien thing when he considered the places he was used to, though he supposed at least he could connect this to something familiar like Ples' study. Indeed, the room looked rather like that, though it was even more richly furnished and considerably lacking in alcohol. A cursory glance revealed a multitude of shelves filled with books and several comfortable-looking chairs, one of which he seemed to currently be bound to. He supposed as far as prisons went, he could have done worse.  
  
This thought did little to comfort him, however, as now that he was conscious the questions began. He remembered the vampire doing something strange, remembered a flash of pain and everything going impossibly hazy... and that was it. Where was he, and how had he gotten here? What had the vampire done to him? What was going on? How long had he been unconscious? Where was Hanna?   
  
Was Hanna okay without him?

 

The still of the room was upset when the large door creaked open first a little, before swinging all the way, revealing said vampire in his large brown sweater, ripped pants, no shoes, and opening the door with his back. When he eventually opened it enough that he was facing the zombie, he gave a startled yelp and a lot of rapid German.   
  
" _Heilige scheiße-süße scheißchristus mutter von Mary des Gottes_! You're awake! I didn't... expect you... well, that... rune, to wear off so fast!" The vampire sunk against the door, laughing a little at his own pathetic outburst at the sight of the glowing orange eyes.

 

The zombie straightened in his seat as the door opened, his eyes widening as he caught sight of the bruises marring the face of his kidnapper. Alright, that was strange. Last he checked, the undead man was fairly sure he was the victim here... so why was the vampire beaten up? The whole thing just made him more suspicious and confused, which left him feeling rather unsure of what to say. He had many questions and the current situation left him feelings rather untrusting as to whether those questions would be answered or not. So, as was his custom, he said nothing, simply regarding the startled vampire with a raised brow.

 

"Ah, hello." Larden rose from the floor and closed the door. Once sure it was properly closed and sound-tight he began to meander over to the chair, talking all the while. He was more trying to fill in the decidedly confused silence with words, because otherwise they were left with an awkward strain about the room and he already felt bad enough.  
  
"I am terribly sorry I had to do this to you, you know how it is with ten years olds - okay, maybe you don't, _schade, mein schlechtes_ \- and especially Lenore, you know, she's a sweetheart, she just... tends to put her mind in the wrong places, _Ich denke_. Ah, look, I'm just filling space, ja? I, ah, actually must ask you an important question. Will you try and escape if I were to untie you? Lenore will most likely _töten Sie mich_ , er, kill me, but if you promise not to run for it - if you do, though, I will have to stop you, and I am armed -" Here, Larden held out his hand to show the black ink of a rune spidering across his pale skin in complicated patterns, "- I can untie you and get you a drink - i-if you drink, _natürlich_ , I don't know how zombies operate - and maybe we can talk? I might not be the most... apt talker, but I know you must have questions and I might have some answers - I can't promise anything, _für Ihr Wissen_ , since I am very... in the shadow? Is that the idiom-oh, never mind, anyway, I can try and provide answers if you... I mean, if you trust me. I know you probably don't at the present, which is understandable, but... I can promise you to my knowledge, no one is to be harmed from this... incident."  
  
Larden held out his hand in a show of friendship, even though the zombie couldn't take it, and upon realizing this, he half drew it back, embarrassed.

  
The zombie regarded Larden with the same blank stare throughout the confusing rant, though his brows did arch ever-so-slightly at things like the mention of Lenore and the rune on the vampire's arm. He wasn't sure if the vampire was just as confused as he was or was just nervous. Perhaps it was both, but either way it wasn't exactly what the undead man would expect from a kidnapper. His confusion only made him more desperate for answers, but the zombie felt considerably less willing to trust anyone who had recently knocked him unconscious. Sure, the vampire seemed quite apologetic about the whole mess, and he _claimed_ no one would be hurt, but the zombie wasn't so sure when he compared the vampire's words to his recent actions.  
  
But did he really have much of a choice?  
  
"...I won't try to run," He finally said, low voice rumbling through the room. "And I don't drink, so you don't need to worry about that. You'll have to forgive me if I'm less willing to trust your words this time around, however."

 

"I would expect no less." Larden trotted around the chair and pulled at the knots until they fell away, leaving the zombie unbound. "If I were you I wouldn't trust me, either. If that makes any sense."

 

The undead man nodded in thanks, flexing long green fingers as he stretched arms that had grown rather stiff. He supposed this made little sense, as he had no blood flowing in them, but he supposed very few things about him made sense. "I suppose it does," He murmured as he settled a bit more comfortably in the chair, his orange eyes never leaving the vampire's golden ones. "Now... I don't suppose you could tell me where I am? And more importantly, have you done anything to Hanna?" His eyes narrowed a bit at the second question, his grip tightening on the arms of the chair as his voice took on a dangerous edge that communicated far more than his words did.  
  
He knew he'd promised not to run, but he had to admit he wasn't so sure he'd be able to keep that promise if the answer to that question was a bad one. Larden seemed innocent enough, but he _had_ knocked the zombie unconscious. The undead man could only hope the vampire's actions had ended there.

 

  
"Calm yourself, there." Larden smiled, settling himself on top of a desk nearby. "Your small redhaired friend is safe. I have not harmed him, nor seen him, and Lenore is a bit focused on other men." He shrugged. "As for the where, you are in the study of the Cruentus family household." The vampire pulled his legs onto the desk and crossed them. "Lenore asked me to bring you here. I though the study was... less... menacing, I think the word is, than other rooms."

 

The zombie relaxed a bit upon hearing Hanna seemed to be alright, even if his captor didn't seem to know the redhead's wear-abouts. Sure, there was no guarantee that Hanna _was_ safe (and given the redhead's track record, it was still very unlikely) but at least he was fairly certain the paranomal investigator wasn't locked up somewhere else in the mansion. This worry gone, he was free to focus on other matters. "Cruentus," He repeated, brow furrowing. The name felt strange on his tongue. "And who are they?"

 

“They’re, ah, a rather powerful family in the area. They have… some big business, what I do not know, and they… do shady dealings with supernatural peoples – you know, _Vampire, Werwölfe, et cetera_. That’s why I was hired – at least, what I was told I was hired for. To, ah, keep Lenore safe at all costs. She’s the heir, but she’s ten, you know. I do not know where the money stays as of now, considering, but… _ihre Mutter_ was a very kind woman… Ah, but I ramble. Apologies.” Larden grinned a little lopsidedly, tucking his feet under him a little and putting his elbows on his knees. He supported his head with his hand, shrugging with his other shoulder.

 

"I see," The zombie murmured as he absorbed this newfound information. "So... the Cruentus family has done this, then?" He quirked a brow as he looked to the vampire. "I confess I'm feeling rather confused, I'm not sure what I did to be involved in such things." He really was rather confused. He didn't think he and Hanna had caused that much of a stir, and as far as he knew he'd never heard of this family, so what was he doing here?

 

"I apologize that I cannot make this any clearer." Larden sighed. "Lenore is a... very confusing child, when it comes to... these things." He waved his hand at the zombie and the ropes in a general definition of _these things_. "I cannot give you her reasons, for they are her own."

 

The zombie looked rather confused. "So... it's the little girl who ordered this, then? Not the whole family? And you don't know why, you're simply following orders." He sat in silence for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. "Did her parents really allow this? It sounds like your job description is meant to be a bodyguard, it doesn't seem like kidnapping the undead is a common occurrence for you."

 

Larden's brows furrowed slightly at the mention of Lenore's parents. "I was hired, at first, as a bodyguard, ja. But... her parents..." Larden sort of trailed off. "I'm her everything, now. I guess, if that makes sense."

 

Orange eyes met gold as the undead man took this in. "So you take care of her in their place, then. Even if she's asking things... like this?" He asked, nodding to the ropes and raising a brow. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you this is wrong."

 

"She-she doesn't mean any harm by it, though!" Larden hopped up, voice a tiny bit high with the intent to justify himself. "And... and let's just say... I am... how can I say this... not the most in control." The sudden calm that washed over Larden seemed to still him entirely. "I do what I can, I keep her safe."

 

The zombie's eyebrows rose at Larden's sudden rise in pitch. The vampire seemed almost desperate to justify himself and his charge, and for an instant the undead man had to wonder if Larden was talking to his captive or himself. He supposed it wasn't really any of his business, though. "I suppose I'll have to take your word for it," He said after a moment, nodding again. "As I said before... I think I can understand where you're coming from."

 

Larden shoved his hands in his pockets - he didn't know why they were shaking - and settled back on the desk with a half chortle.   
  
"You know... you're the... the first to remind me that sometimes, what Lenore wants is... is _falsch_... in a long time." He shook his head, removing his hands from his pocket and watching them shake. "I know... I am glad you... understand... that I cannot... say no to her. I just... I don't have it in me. It's a... a... _einsam_.... very alone, I don't know the word, apologies... a very alone world sometimes, ja?"

 

  
The undead man's brow furrowed as he watched Larden. He said nothing, just sat and listened, taking note of the shaking hands and change in demeanor, For an instant he felt almost guilty for mentioning the fact that something was very wrong here, though he was aware this was a silly notion. The sense of helplessness he got simply from hearing the vampire's broken speech was almost painful, and he felt a strange sense of empathy along with a stab of pity for a man who suddenly appeared very tired and very old. He got the sense of someone who was trapped in a very bad situation, who was left helpless because he cared a bit too much, and that last bit... well, that was something the undead man knew quite well.  
  
"Yes," He finally shifted forward after a moment of silence, his gaze growing somewhat distant as he mused over Larden's words. "It is indeed a very lonely world sometimes. Especially when the people you care about do some very questionable things... and even when you know better, all you can do is go along for the ride." He almost smiled at this as he gazed down at his own gloved hands. "It can be rather frustrating, really."

  
"Ha, ja, but you cannot help but love them." Larden chuckled, bracing his hands on the desk. "May I... you talk as if... you have been... know someone similar. May I ask who?"

 

"Ah... Hanna is... kind of infamous for not really thinking before he acts. It's my job to make sure that doesn't get him killed," The zombie said, a slight raising of the shoulder passing for a shrug as he threaded his gloved fingers together in his lap. "He rarely listens, always running ahead without thought of the consequences, and all I can really do is chase after him and hope if he falls I'll be close enough to catch him." This time he did smile as his eyes closed, looking strangely calm in spite of the situation.  
  
"It's utterly frustrating... but I still wouldn't trade it for anything."

 

"Hanna was the... energetic redhead, ja?" Larden laid back on the desk, looking at the ceiling. The was a comforting moment of silence with a lingering feeling of bonding hovering through it. "I am... glad... I have found someone else in the world that... thinks the way I do. Protectively."

 

And then of course the moment was ruined rather unceremoniously by the study door slamming open. "Laaarden?" Lenore's head poked through the doorway, the bit of dried blood on her face not detracting from her wide grin."I'm baaaaack and I..." Her singsong voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her, her brow furrowing.  
  
"Larden," She murmured as she took a step instead, her tone still quite sweet and smile still in place. "Why is the zombie untied?"

 

Larden flinched almost unnoticeably at the slamming door. "Ah, well, you know, he isn't going to run for it, and... I felt... quite bad keeping him... captured, you know?" He tried to explain, knowing that his explanation would probably not suffice.

 

Lenore's smile seemed to thin a bit at this, though she managed to keep it on her face. "I see. Well, I suppose I can understand, Larden, but you see, the whole point of kidnapping him was kind of to keep him _captured_." Her sugary sweet tone darkened at the end, becoming something more akin to a hiss as she made her way toward the two of them, her white dress swishing around her legs.  
  
Orange eyes narrowed slightly as the undead man looked to the approaching girl. He opted to keep his mouth shut for the moment, simply observing the exchange between his two captors. He supposed he should have expected this the moment he was freed, there was no sense in speaking up and potentially making tensions worse.

 

"Lenore..." Larden didn't move from the desk. "You know... You know I am not capable of... keeping him like.... that." He picked out his words carefully, fingers threading in his lap. "I cannot... willingly... make someone _suffer_... like that."

 

"I wasn't _asking_ you to make him suffer, Larden," Lenore's tone was clipped now as she paused between the desk and the chair. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, her smile slipping to reveal an angry scowl as she finally rounded on the vampire."All I asked was for you to capture him, that was it! It's not like I'm asking the impossible, why couldn't you even do this, huh!? Besides, what if he'd tried to hurt you and escape? That rune I made you only goes so far!"  
  
"I assure you, I had no intention of hurting anyone," The zombie finally spoke up, interrupting Lenore's shrill, high-pitched yell.  
  
The ten-year old spun around to face him, short dark hair flowing with the motion to frame her livid face. "This doesn't concern you, zombie! You keep quiet!" She snapped, jabbing one small finger in the undead man's direction.

 

“So-so tying a man to a bench and making him _galgenfrist_ like that isn’t suffering? Lenore, I kidnapped _der mann_ , it was the least I could do!” Larden had hopped off the table in mid sentence, before he stopped himself. There was something akin to a passion in his voice, though light and well hidden under his own obvious guilt.

 

"Do you _not_ realize what we're doing here!?" Lenore snapped, stomping her foot down on the carpet. "Honestly Larden, it's not like it's not that hard! You don't even have to _do_ anything besides grab the guy, it's not like I'm asking that much! You know what he is, you _know_ we have a job to do, and sometimes you have to dirty work! Is that really too much for me to ask of you? You're _supposed_ to do what I say, or did you forget that!?"

 

The resigned silence was all Lenore obtained as an answer. Larden simply drifted back down to the desk, hands gripping the edge tightly. There was no way to win. There was just no way to win.

 

Lenore just stood there glaring at Larden for another moment. Finally she let out a huff, turning her back on the vampire. "We'll talk later," She muttered, golden eyes falling upon the undead man in the chair. "Tie him up again. I don't need to have a conversation with a dead man and we need him..." She trailed off, brow furrowing, as if she wasn't sure of what term to use. " _Alive_ , for tomorrow night."  
  
"Alive for what?" The zombie inquired, brow furrowing. After the conversation that had just taken place, he was really hoping to get some answers. What had she been referring to when she mentioned 'job'?   
  
"Didn't I tell you not to speak?" Lenore hissed. After a moment she seemed to remember her composure, however, as she forced a smile back into place. "Not that it really matters to you, dead man, but I've got a little meet-up planned with your red-haired friend. I think it'll be fun, don't you?" She asked as she walked up to the zombie, hands behind her back.  
  
Orange eyes narrowed at the mention of Hanna. "What are you planning on doing to him?" The undead man demanded, his voice taking on a dangerous air.  
  
The ten-year old blinked up at him for a moment, then gave a laugh. "Wow, are you actually showing concern for that kid? That's interesting," She said, her smile becoming decidedly unpleasant. "But no, no, don't worry dead man. As long as your friend follows my instructions and things go according to plan, no one's getting hurt."  
  
Somehow, her words didn't make the zombie feel any better. It probably had something to do with the fact that Hanna wasn't exactly known for following instructions terribly well. "I don't know what you're planning," He finally said after a moment, sitting up straight so he could glance over Lenore's head to the silent Larden. "But I'm sure you're aware this is wrong."  
  
This time it was Lenore's eyes that narrowed, her smile dropping. "Excuse me? Do you really have any right to be saying that? You're the one who's cheating death unnaturally, dead man." She said, her voice dropping to a chilling tone. It was clearly a warning, a sign that her prisoner was treading dangerous ground and should know better.  
  
His gaze went from Larden to the girl before him, and for an instant he considered keeping quiet. He wasn't exactly known for his words, and he wasn't sure what had him speaking now. All he knew was this whole situation already gave him a strange, sickly sort of feeling in his stomach and if he didn't say _something_ , it would be wrong. Someone had to, and it was clear the vampire across from him couldn't. "I suppose I can't say whether my existence is right or not. But your friend there knows quite well that this is wrong, and I think you do as well. You shouldn't be doing this. You should be letting me go, you shouldn't be involved in things like that." His tone was calm enough, but the way he gazed down at the girl in front of him gave him the air of someone lecturing a child throwing a temper tantrum as opposed to a prisoner speaking to their captor.  
  
Lenore gaped at him, as if the fact that someone was even speaking back to her was in fact shocking. Then she let out a growl, holding up one hand. "Who are you to tell me I shouldn't be involved!? I--" She paused suddenly, her hand still held aloft. Then after a moment she seemed to compose herself, her hand dropping to her side. The false, polite smile was gone, however. "You're _very_ lucky, dead man. I need you uninjured for tomorrow... but if you do _anything_ stupid, I will make you _wish_ you could die again, do you understand me?" She growled out, hands clenching into fists. She then spun to face Larden again. "What are you waiting for? I told you to tie him up again!"

 

Larden, face set in an unreadable facade, proceeded to simply do as he was told, tying the ropes rather loosely and vaguely hoping that the zombie would use the slack to escape and set things right.

 

Unfortunately, this gesture was proved useless as Lenore made her way for the door. On the way, however, she paused, seeming to consider something. She then glared over her shoulder at the zombie in the chair. "By the way. This _shouldn't_ be a problem, but in case a certain someone's knots don't work, I'm setting up a ward on the door. If it comes in contact with most creatures, it'll explode. I'm not quite sure what it'll do to something like you, but I wouldn't risk it. I doubt your little friend wants you back in pieces, am I right?" She gave a giggle at this, then turned fully to face the two of them. "Come on Larden, it's getting late. I was thinking a bedtime story might be nice, hm?"

 

Larden quietly stood. He shot a final sorry glance at the zombie, before heaving a sigh and finding a smile somewhere in him to plant on his face. "A story... would be very nice, Lenore. Shall I tell _mien vater_ 's version of Little Red Riding Hood?"

 

Lenore beamed and nodded, walking over to Larden and taking his hand. "Yes, please! I love that one!" She cheered, looking for all the world like an innocent child aside from the blood on her face. With those words she began to drag the vampire toward the door, chattering excitedly all the while. Just before exiting the room, however, she cast a final glance behind her, golden eyes meeting orange. For an instant the zombie felt something within him twist, as if he were meeting the gaze of something far more than a child and whatever he saw truly didn't sit well with him.  
  
Then she was gone and the study door was slamming behind her and her vampire guardian, leaving the zombie to his thoughts once again.

 

\---

 

This was a very bad idea.

  
That was the only thought that Conrad could seem to process as he gazed up at the warehouse in the dark of the night. When Hanna had come to his apartment the night before, alone, the vampire had to admit he felt somewhat concerned. The redhead was very rarely seen without his undead shadow, and the panic that seemed to be just barely contained in those big blue eyes didn't really help matters. This concern did little to fend off his outrage when Hanna had explained the contents of the note and his plan, however. The idea of going to a warehouse alone at midnight already didn't sit well with him, but the fact that Conrad's company had been _requested_... well, the vampire felt he was well within rights to have a bad feeling about the whole thing.  
  
Of course, that bad feeling didn't stop him from coming. Conrad was terrible at saying no as it was, and Hanna had seemed so strangely _off_ without his zombie companion that the vampire doubted he would have been able to say no even if Hanna had been suggesting diving into the depths of hell. Plus, he really did rather like the zombie, and if his presence was required to get the undead man, he would come.  
  
It didn't mean he wouldn't voice his distaste for the whole mess the entire time, however.  
  
"Why are we doing this?" Conrad muttered as he tugged his jacket around his shoulders, trying to block out the freezing wind. He supposed he technically didn't need to worry about such things, but damnit being dead didn't technically change the fact that it was _cold_. "This is stupid. This is _beyond_ stupid. This is the sort of plot device some idiot in a bad horror movie follows before getting killed. God, this is stupid. Why are we doing this? _Why_?"

 

Hanna didn’t outright answer the question at first, busy trying to force the thick steel doors to slide open. When he took a break from his pulling, he simply looked up at Conrad. The determined set of his brows and the worried sort of glow to his eyes conveyed his answer well enough. They were here to save his zombie friend, and nothing could get between Hanna and his destination. Not even the stupid door. Said door gave way when Hanna leaned back on it, letting him topple backwards into the thick darkness inside the building.

  
Conrad winced as he watched Hanna topple into the darkness, the resulting _'crash!'_ seeming far too loud for his liking. Well, if they were going to announce they were here to every creep in the area, that was certainly the way to go about it. After a moment of silence he finally forced himself to at least take a step closer to the doorway. "Are you alright?" He called out tentatively into the dark, hoping that the redhead hadn't gone and injured himself already.

 

There was a shift in the darkness, and Hanna appeared in the doorway, adjusting his glasses and brushing the dirt from his shirt. "M'fine. It's pretty dark in there, yeah? Looks like a horror movie." The near glee on Hanna's face at the idea of being stuck in a horror movie was evident, the situation pressed lightly to the back of his mind. "Now all we need is zombies rising from the dead, right Fieryo...?" He turned, and trailed off at the lack of zombie. Oh, right. He was kidnapped. The glee vanished.

 

  
The vampire felt something inwardly twist at the way Hanna's voice trailed off. The redhead's glee had been a short breath of normalcy, and its abrupt end seemed to only highlight the empty space where Hanna's zombie companion should have been. For all his complaints, Conrad was finding he preferred excited Hanna to the serious stranger in the twenty-four year old's shoes, and the urge to get Hanna back in his standard state of annoying was nearly enough to help the vampire overcome his fear. It wasn't quite enough though, and Conrad had to give a moment's pause as he gazed at the dark entryway. This was such a bad idea. There was no denying the look Hanna had given him earlier, however. Hanna was impossible to stop when it came to insignificant mischief. Stopping him if a friend was in danger was simply out of the question, so all Conrad could really do was get dragged along like he always did and hope no one got _too_ hurt.  
  
Conrad took a deep breath he didn't need and stepped into the warehouse. "I _told you_ it sounded like a horror movie. God, this is stupid." He muttered, his accent echoing through the darkness. He frowned as he glanced around, absently feeling grateful for once that being a vampire had the perk of slightly better vision in such situations. Better vision didn't change the fact that he wasn't seeing anything inside beyond a whole lot of crates stacked on top of each other. "I don't see anyone..." He muttered as he shifted awkwardly. "Damnit, if this was some kind of hoax..."

 

  
"If it was a hoax, why would they take Michelangelo?" Hanna asked, stepping into the space without hesitation, vaguely able to make out square shapes that were a fraction darker than the dark around them. He removed his hammer from his pocket and held it aloft. He half expected the door to slam close, and made sure to remain in the sliver of light it gave off just in case. It was colder inside than out, and he shivered.   
  
"Besides." The hammer in his hand was glowing a faint red. "We're close to something."

 

Conrad had opened his mouth to suggest something about the whole mess being a hoax, but it closed when he saw the glowing hammer. "Great," He muttered, absently wondering to himself if he would have honestly preferred that the whole thing were a hoax and nothing was there. Of course, he wouldn't be that lucky. "Now that you've said that, all we need is something like--"  
  
And of course, right on cue there was a burst of wind that slammed the door shut, plunging the room in complete darkness.  
  
"...Of course," The vampire said flatly.

 

The tiny amount of light the hammer gave off was enough to illuminate Hanna's face in a soft red glow as he continued to scan the area, unabated. All he could hear was the squeak of his shoes and the hammer of his heart in his chest.

 

All was silent for a moment. Then quite suddenly there was a loud _'click'_ , followed by the flickering of one of the many florescent lights hooked to the ceiling. This single light clicked on, illuminating a series of catwalks above the main floor of the warehouse. These catwalks were largely empty, save for three figures at the other end of the room. One of them was unmistakably Hanna's zombie friend, judging from the bright orange shirt and green skin, though he was currently blindfolded and tied to a chair. Flanking him on one side was the vampire they'd met several days beforehand, and on the other side was the little girl. The girl in question was grinning from ear to ear as she gazed down at them, hands behind her back as she spoke up, her calm words echoing through the otherwise empty warehouse.  
  
"Hello, Mr.Cross."


	5. Chapter 5

The feeling of his heart pounding in Hanna's head returned tenfold at the sight of his best pal tied to a chair and blindfolded. The lights hummed softly, and Hanna felt his muscles tense. Was there a way up to the catwalks? He couldn't see one. He'd have to persuade from down on the ground level. 

"Let Lincoln go!"

"'Lincoln'?" Lenore's brow furrowed and she glanced over at the bound zombie, looking rather confused. "I thought you didn't have a name?"

"I don't," The zombie's voice was flat as always, but he'd tensed the moment he'd heard Hanna's voice. There was no mistaking the fact that Hanna had come. One part of him was grateful to hear the redhead's voice, but another part felt uneasy. There was something decidedly wrong about this whole situation, and he could only hope this would end as Lenore had claimed, without anyone being hurt.

Somehow he couldn't bring himself to feel optimistic about that.

"Oh," The ten-year old shrugged, seemingly ignoring the way the undead man tensed next to her as she looked back to Hanna. "Now now, Mr. Cross, patience is a virtue, or at least that's what my daddy taught me. Also, just so you know, Larden here has a rune on him that _will_ be used on your little zombie friend if you and the Lamepire ("Hey!" went Conrad, only to be ignored) try anything. I'm not entirely sure what it'll do to a dead man, but I doubt you want those enchantments messed with so I'd recommend staying where I can see you. Do I make myself clear?" She smiled sweetly down at Hanna and Conrad.

Hanna planted his feet firmly on the ground, white knuckled hands gripping the hammer tightly. "What do you want from us?" He shouted up. "Why did you kidnap my friend?"

Conrad scowled as he went still as well, hands clenching into fists. "Seriously! This is a bit much for a grudge over some stupid stuffed animal, isn't it!?" He snapped.

Golden eyes blinked down at the two of them for a moment. Then Lenore threw back her head and laughed, a strangely hair-raising cackle that echoed through the room. "You think this is about Arma? No, no, that would be silly, although I _do_ wish you'd apologize. You hurt her feelings quite a bit, you big meanie! But no, this isn't about you, it's about Mr. Cross here," She murmured as she leaned against the railing of the catwalk, fingers tracing absently over a large book in her hands. "I have to say, I find him very interesting. You don't usually find humans hanging around vampires and zombies, and for that matter if they do they usually aren't the ones running into all the danger. You're quite the character, Mr. Cross... I like that."

Hanna watched the three on the catwalks, feeling his fingers twitch around his hammer. "So, if it's not about the bird, what is it about? Most people don't go around kidnapping zombies just for the heck of it."

Lenore rolled her eyes. "Were you _not_ listening, you idiot? It's about _you_!" She snapped. "I like you!"

"You _like_ him? That's ridiculous! Look, if you liked Hanna so much, why not just send him a letter from his secret admirer or whatever!? Kidnapping his partner seems a bit over the line!" Conrad exclaimed.

"Shut _up_ , vampire!" The dark-haired girl snapped, then looked to Hanna again. "It's not like that. It's just that I've taken on a very hard job lately, and well... Mr. Cross seems pretty capable. I could use that, so I thought maybe we could work together." She flashed a smile as she ran a finger along the metal railing of the catwalk.

"You kidnapped my best friend," Hanna cocked his head to the side slightly, "so I'd work with you?" He grinned almost apologetically. "I mean, ma'am, I don't think that's the right way to get a guy to like you, let alone work together." He chuckled. 

_Well,_ he thought, _that was easy enough._

Lenore's smile widened into a full on grin as she clapped her hands together, the heavy book between them. "No, no, silly, that was just to get your attention! See, I don't really get why, but I know you're quite attached to this zombie of yours. I guess it's a bit like me and my Larden," She shrugged and paused a moment to glance back at the vampire and nod, then turned back to Hanna. "You care, so you'll go to the ends of the Earth for him... even if it means working for me to make sure he'll be okay. You know there are spells to undo what he is. Complicated spells, but they exist, and I know how to use them. And I'm pretty sure as long as he's under that threat, you'll at least listen to what I have to say... even if the next part of this whole idea is a bit harder to swallow.

"Now you see, my job currently involves the extermination of paranormal threats. You know, as in things like the little piece of vermin standing behind you," Her eyes narrowed as she looked to Conrad, whom flinched instinctively. "Unfortunately, you see things a bit differently... and well, I need to fix that. So, that's where the test comes in."

Hanna remained silent for a moment, feeling the tension in the room. Whatever Lenore wanted, Hanna had no choice but to listen to her, because otherwise, his friend was in danger. "If I do what you want, will you let Lysander go?"

At Hanna's words, the zombie felt something within him twist. Hanna should not have had to do _anything_ for him, but of course the redhead would. Of course, Hanna would do whatever it took, and there was something terribly wrong about all that... but of course he was the one who was helpless in this situation, and that was just impossibly frustrating. All he could really do was listen and hope the bad feeling he had in his stomach was wrong.

In the contrast to the zombie's unease, Lenore was positively beaming. "Yes, that's the plan. If you work with me, I'll return your friend to you. All you have to do is pass a little test, and we can start setting up the negotiations."

"It's not really negotiations if you're just forcing them to do everything at gunpoint, you brat," Conrad growled, He was feeling very uneasy as it was, and he really didn't like how Lenore kept looking at him.

"What's the test?" Hanna took a step forward. "What do you want me to do?" He'd do most anything for the zombie, but there were some lines he wouldn't cross.

The little girl gave a chuckle. "Oh, nothing too complicated. It's just that you keep such interesting friends... and well, I'm afraid in my business such friends can be dangerous. They need to be taken care of. The creature next to you is a full vampire, he's not a halfbreed like my Larden here. He's very dangerous, I'm sure you know that. As such, he really needs to be taken care of." She paused here, her golden eyes flicking to Conrad's wide ones as he seemed to comprehend what she was getting at. "I need to make sure you're worth trusting, Mr. Cross. All you have to do is kill the vampire."

" _What_!?" Conrad exclaimed, his jaw dropping, expression one of horror. He swore if he'd had a heart, it would have stopped beating. "Y-you can't be serious! Hanna would never... I'm not a threat, you crazy bitch!" He sputtered, glancing to the redhead next to him. He trusted Hanna, but he had to admit now that the threat on his life was out in the open he was feeling considerably more terrified.

"I told you to _shut up_ , vampire! This isn't your decision!" Lenore snapped.

"How the hell is it not my decision!? It's _my_ life!" Conrad yelped, only to be ignored again as the ten-year old turned her gaze to Hanna again.

"What do you say, Mr. Cross?"

"Woah, woah, WOAH." Hanna held up his hands. "I am not killing _anybody_! And Conrad's not a threat! No offense, Connie." The sheepish shrug Hanna gave him was apology enough for the redhead. "Nobody's getting hurt here." The serious, take-no-shit face looked a little out of place on the redhead when it flickered on after the sheepish grin, but it wasn't a face to be denied.

"Lenore," the quiet hiss from the unthreatened vampire wasn't audible downstairs, "I thought you said no one would get hurt!"

Golden eyes flicked to the vampire at her side and Lenore blinked in confusion. "I did say no one would get hurt. No one important, anyway. That vampire over there isn't like you, you know what he is. We _do_ have a job to do, there's no point in letting special circumstances get in the way of that. And besides, if he doesn't listen, what else am I supposed to do, hm?" She smiled again, then turned back to Hanna.

"Gee, Mister. I really thought you were smarter than that," She murmured. She sounded disappointed, but the smile never left her face. "I don't think you really get it. You don't have a choice in the matter. If you don't kill the vampire, I _wil_ l kill your friend here." Her voice grew hard at the end as she jerked her head in the bound zombie's direction. "It shouldn't be that hard, if you say he's not a threat."

"If I'm not a threat then why the fuck should I have to die!?" Conrad demanded.

The dark-haired girl snorted. "Because you _are_ a threat, don't you get that? You all are. Sure, you slap on a human face, but I know you've felt it. There's a very scary monster in there, and sooner or later you all lose it." She said as she pointed at Conrad, then shrugged. "I'm just removing the threat before you hurt anyone, that's all."

"I..." The vampire trailed off, swallowing heavily. When he considered it, he supposed it was true. The way he reacted when he smelled blood, what he'd seen happen to Casmiro... he knew that part of him better than he'd like to admit, and it scared him. It scared him that those words pegged his fears so irritatingly way, pierced right through denials and neurosis's to something he hated to admit was really quite real. But in spite of all that, there was a far stronger voice, insisting to him that he was stronger than he thought and he wouldn't become that. He had to listen to that voice, if only for his own sake and Hanna's.

"No," He finally muttered, his voice almost becoming a growl as he looked to Lenore again. "I'm not a threat. I don't want to hurt anyone."

Lenore raised a brow. "Really? Is that so? That's kind of adorable, a vampire who thinks he can avoid being a real vampire!" She clapped her free hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles, sounding more like a schoolgirl giggling about her crush. "Sorry, but like I said, the choice isn't yours, vampire, so once again I'll tell you to keep quiet. It's up to Mr. Cross here," She finally said after a few seconds of suppressed laughter, looking to Hanna again. "What do you say, Mr. Cross? Sorry, I know it's hard to make this kind of choice, but it really comes down to what you know. You know vampires are a threat, even cute little ones like the puppy there. It's between a known threat and your best friend... which do you choose?"

Hanna's friend, whom had sat largely in shocked silence through most of this, finally spoke up. "Hanna--"

"Now now Mr. Zombie, if you talk that's cheating." Lenore interrupted him. "I may have to cut out your tongue, and I doubt your little friend would like that very much, you know?"

The zombie fell silent at this, gritting his teeth. He wanted so badly to insist that Hanna ignore the girl's words, that he really wasn't worth all this trouble and when it came down to it he really felt if they had no choice his life wasn't worth Conrad's. Of course, he doubted Hanna would choose either, but he really didn't know what he was supposed to suggest. If only he were free and could fight back or something...

But he wasn't free, and he couldn't fight back. Hanna was alone for this one.

Hanna looked at Lenore. His gaze shifted first to the zombie, then Larden, then Conrad, an obvious tumult of emotions rolling behind his eyes in thick waves. He had a choice. 

One, he could kill Conrad. This, though, was unacceptable. Hanna had played a risky bet in bringing the man back to life - albeit, as a vampire, but life was life was life - and there was no way he was going to reverse that. First and foremost, though, Conrad was his friend. Sure, he was normally grumpy and didn't really appreciate Hanna's general enthusiasm, but they were friends. Conrad was _there_ , wasn't he? When he had run to Conrad's place, no Worth or zombie at his back, the vampire had come. That was more than friends enough for Hanna. 

Two, he could let zombie die. This was also unacceptable. The zombie was his best friend, his other half. Hanna tried to imagine a day without the zombie, and the chill that rushed through him was visible on his face as he glanced down to stare at his shoes. If the zombie was gone, he was alone. He would wake up alone, he would work alone, and he would get himself into hell alone. How he used to live. He never wanted to go back to that. He never wanted to be without any of his friends again. 

Hanna gripped the hammer tightly against his side. He couldn't choose either option. He just _couldn't_. Then, a thought came to him. What do you do on a test when neither options make sense? Make up a third. 

"It's me you want, right?!" Hanna looked up at Lenore, brows set in a deep furrow. "Take me, then! Let Conrad and Obi-wan both go, and take me!"

Option three was certainly one Hanna was willing to take.

"What!?" Conrad sputtered as he spun to face Hanna, eyes widening in shock for what felt like the millionth time in the past several minutes. "You can't be serious! Hanna, that bitch is _crazy_ , you can't just go putting yourself in the hands of some psycho little girl!"

"He's right Hanna, don't do it!" The zombie cried out from above them, his voice echoing through the warehouse as he finally strained against the bonds holding him to the chair. It felt a bit odd, raising his voice, but he couldn't bring himself to just sit by and watch this! He was supposed to protect Hanna, he wasn't supposed to have Hanna doing things like giving himself up for the zombie! He couldn't allow this!

Lenore, on the other hand, seemed quite interested in Hanna's proposal. Her thin brows rose, thin lips pursing into an expression of surprise. "Wow. I have to say, I didn't expect that!" She said. She then frowned in thought, cocking her head to the side and tapping her chin with her index finger. "Well, admittedly it's going against what I had planned... kinda goes against my original job, too. I suppose your views are a bit warped, though... you're not going to go along with my original test no matter how I ask, are you?" She asked, looking to the redhead and raising a brow. Without really waiting for an answer, she shrugged. "Well, you're right. What I want is you, and I'm not going to get that by my original methods."

Having seemingly come to her decision, that familiar, terrifying grin fell into place again as she looked to Hanna. "If I let your little friends go, you'll come with me and work with me, then?"

Hanna deftly ignored the protests from his friends. "You've gotta promise that neither of them are gonna get hurt!" Hanna was still set in his ways. "I'll go with you, but you can't hurt them now or later!"

Lenore gave another shrug. "That's fine. I _would_ like the vampire dead, but I'll settle for you. I promise I won't hurt them if you come with me."

The zombie behind her tugged uselessly at his bonds, his orange eyes narrowed as he glared at the girl's back. He couldn't believe he was just sitting there listening to all this take place, a passive observer as Hanna threw himself away like nothing more than a bargaining chip for something like him. "Hanna, don't do it!" He insisted again. "I'm not worth this! Please, we'll think of something else!"

Conrad was equally upset. "Hanna, don't you _dare_!" He exclaimed. He reached and grabbed the redhead's jacket, all fear of human contact lost temporarily in some desperate, primal hope that perhaps if he grabbed some part of Hanna he could hold him back. "This is stupid, you _know_ she's crazy. She wants to kill _me_ , who knows what she'll do to you?" Dark eyes bore into Hanna's blue ones and the vampire gave Hanna a light shake, his expression desperate as he tried to get the redhead to understand.

"She wants me to work with her - killing me isn't on her to-do list." Hanna smiled reassuringly, putting his hand on the one that gripped his coat so tightly. "I'll be fine. I'm not killing you and they aren't killing Emeril. It'll work out." He patted the hand before coaxing his coat from the vampire's grip. He turned back to Lenore. 

"Can I come up there now?" He asked.

Lenore shook her head. "What, do you really think I'm going to fall for something like that? Larden will go to you. I don't want you getting close enough to try anything." With those words she looked to the vampire and nodded. "Would you be a dear, Larden?" She asked, voice suddenly sickeningly sweet. "I want him bound and blindfolded, if you don't mind."

The zombie in the chair gave another jerk at these words, turning to where he assumed Larden was. "You're not really going to do this, are you? You know this is wrong," He murmured, trying to keep his voice low so Lenore couldn't hear. Even with his usual fairly calm tone, there was an underlying current of panic, a desperate plea that couldn't be put into words.

_'Don't take him. You know what this feels like, don't you dare take him.'_

"I'm sorry." Larden replied, voice barely above a whisper. "But... he asked for this. No one gets hurt, ja?" And with those words, he began for the stairs to the main floor where Hanna was waiting.

The undead man grit his teeth as he heard the vampire walk away. The girl had said no one would get hurt, but he didn't believe that for a second. He'd seen Lenore's eyes earlier, he'd seen the bloodlust in them, and he highly doubted Hanna simply giving himself up was going to satisfy that. Hanna was most likely walking into a deathtrap, there was no way around it, and all he could do was sit there and listen the whole mess unfold. Again he struggled against his bonds, desperately trying to get loose. "Hanna!"

"I've had enough of your babbling. You were good up to this point, but now you talk too much," Lenore interrupted as she thumbed through the book in her hands. She finally seemed to settle on something and gestured to the zombie. " _Silentium_ ," She murmured.

An invisible force seemed to pass between them and quite suddenly the zombie gasped, feeling as if he were choking on something. After a few moments of gasping he closed his mouth, eyes narrowing as he glared through his blindfold.

Her spell didn't reach Conrad on the ground, not that it really mattered since the vampire seemed to be at loss for words. Dark eyes glanced around as he struggled to pick Larden out of the remaining darkness, fists still clenched at his sides. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do! It wasn't like he could just sit back and let Hanna be taken, but he highly doubted he could fight Larden off either.

He never got the chance to decide on a course of action. After a few moments looking through her book again, Lenore's grin widened. "Ah, here we go! _Atrum_!" She called out, snapping her fingers.

Instantly the lights went out. However, it was so much more than that. Where before it had simply seemed to be an absence of light, the darkness that filled the room now seemed impossibly thick, as if a great, heavy blackness had descended upon the warehouse. It plunged everything into a blackness that even robbed Conrad of his limited night vision. The sudden darkness drew a sharp cry of surprise from the vampire's lips, and even this sound seemed muffled in the heavy black air. This was the only sound he caught for a minute or so, save for his own breathing and what he _thought_ may have been a scuffling noise or two.

By the time the darkness had cleared and Conrad could see again, Hanna was gone and he and the bound zombie were alone.


	6. Chapter 6

"Do you know why you're here, Mr. Washington?"  
  
The woman's voice was gentle, if a tad firm as she gazed at what she thought was a man. One perfectly plucked eyebrow arched as she sat there at her desk, manicured fingers treading together. She seemed kind enough, her tone as professional as her sleek office garb, but there was a clear undercurrent of tension to her words. She reached up and adjusted her glasses, the movement seeming oddly fitting of the prestigious air that filled the overly fancy classroom where the two found themselves.

 

Larden, who was sitting attentively and as far away from the windows as space would allow – _curse human’s need for daylight, he was going to get fried at this rate_ – clenched his hands a little tighter in his lap. He crossed, then uncrossed his legs. How he _hated_ meeting with teachers. Especially Lenore’s uptight prep-school teachers. Never mind the badly covered bruises – _curse this woman and her beating heart, she’s not helping being alive and tense and I know I can’t blame her for that but really! –_ or the slightly already nervous air that maybe, just maybe, they knew they had a kidnapped twenty something in the mansion.

 

“It’s Lenore, ja?” Larden forced a twitch of a smile and glanced at the sunbeam that was making its way closer to his chair every passing minute. He shifted a little further away and hoped that whatever it was, they could just get it over with so he wouldn’t burst into flames in front of the teachers.

 

The teacher blinked at Larden's response, one eyebrow raising as she noticed his nervous shift from the window. This one had always been rather odd, she had to admit. "Ah, yes," She said as she reached up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know you're her guardian, in the wake of her parents absence... you're her brother, correct?" She inquired, eyes narrowing a bit. She didn't look as if she believed this fact entirely, though she would admit the two certainly looked related.

 

Larden nodded almost a little too emphatically. Luckily, he and Lenore looked similar enough to convince at least the teachers of their sibling-related-ness. He couldn't quite remember _how_ he explained the decidedly large age gap, but that didn't matter.   
  
"Ah, yes, I am. Is... something the matter?" He tried to focus on the teacher but could really only think that one, she needed blinds, two, he hoped the kidnappee wasn't getting into trouble and they'd have to hurt him, and three, what the hell could Lenore have done this time? At least the third was mostly on topic.

 

The teacher watched him in silence for a moment, gauging his reaction. It was rather clear that she still didn't entirely buy the "siblings" card, but she'd been down this road before and everything technically checked out. Ah well, nothing else to be done. At least it could be said that Lenore's guardian was quite charming, if a tad out of place in such a fancy school. She then shook her head, she had more important things to worry about than the Larden thing.  
  
"Ah, not precisely. Lenore is, as always, an excellent student," The woman said as she adjusted the papers in front of her, glancing over them. "She continues to be at the top of her class and shows remarkable natural ability. Every piece of work she turns in is remarkable for a girl her age, she most likely has a very bright future ahead of her." She paused for a moment, then shook her head. "In a way, it's almost _too_ remarkable... this isn't the work of a child who lost her parents a few months ago."

 

"So... what do you mean by this?" Larden withheld a sigh. Somewhere along that sentence the idea that Lenore was not a normal child was lost, so they thought she needed to react to family death like one. Ah, mortals. What could you do with them?

  
The teacher's brow furrowed at Larden's question. "What I mean, Mr.Washington, is I'm concerned. I'm aware Lenore has always been a very studious girl and hasn't been the most social... in fact, as far as I'm aware, you're her only friend. But her work is perfectly done, and in contrast she still has yet to make any friends. In fact, to be honest..." She paused to let out a sigh, reaching up to adjust her glasses. This was the hard part, the part she always hated talking to parents and guardians about. "The other children are scared of her. I'm aware that she got into a few fights over the years-- and don't get me wrong, I'm not saying she's fighting. I have no proof that she's technically done anything... in fact, if I go by her actions I'd say aside from being a bit more distant than normal she's the same as always. But the children are scared, Mr.Washington. They feel as if something, or _someone_ is threatening them."

 

"And, because Lenore is... distant, as you say, then you assume that she is actually doing something to scare them?" Larden shifted forward to lean on his knees. Here came his least favorite part - making up some type of something to keep them from thinking anything was particularly wrong. "Ma'am, Lenore just lost her parents." Larden took care to articulate his words, because he was sure the teacher had no understanding of German and using words from his original language book would be no help. "And as you stated, she is... taking this all quite well. But, as you are most probably aware, she... may not be all she seems. She may have been teased, asked them to stop - politely! Of course, - and the, ah," He paused a moment, thinking, really wondering why he just didn't _study_ like a normal person, " _repressed_ , I think the word is, emotion terrified the children...?" He tried, and mostly failed, to make that sentence not a question.

  
Dark eyes blinked in surprise at Larden's response. After a moment the teacher gave a small smile and adjusted her notes again. "Yes, I suppose you could be right. That's what I was worried about, perhaps she's repressing and it's simply scaring the others... but I can't help but wonder if there's something more going on," Here her eyes narrowed as she looked to Larden again. "There isn't anything going on at home, is there Mr. Washington?" Her voice was polite enough, but there was a hint of a threat there, a clear note of suspicion to her tone that made it quite clear that she didn't trust the "man" across from her.

  
Larden reverted to sitting up straight almost a little too suddenly. "Why would you think such a thing?" He tried to sound almost incredulous, but he only just barely managed to not sound worried. "Other than the obvious, you know, _death of her parents_ , nothing else is different."

 

The teacher eyed Larden for another moment, then flashed that same polite smile. "My apologies. You have to understand, I can't help but be concerned. Lenore is a very bright girl, and her parents were highly qualified. I know you've looked after her since she was young, but you don't seem to be very old or experienced yourself, Mr. Washington. I just have to wonder if you're qualified enough to know what's really best for her sometimes, that's all."

 

"I can most justifiably assure you I am qualified enough. And most certainly old enough." Larden chuckled at this. _Over 200 years old better be old enough or nothing would please this woman_ , he thought. "Now, ma'am, was that all you wished to discuss?" He asked, briefly glancing at the sunbeam that had the audacity to barely tickle his boot and threaten much bodily harm upon him. "Because I do have business to attend to elsewhere."

 

She stared at him for awhile longer, then finally gave a sigh. It was clear she had nothing more she could really say that went beyond suspicion, so she nodded. "Yes, that's everything, you're free to go. Lenore should be waiting for you outside." She said, gesturing to the door.

 

" _Danke_." Larden murmured, standing up and giving the briefest of bows before nearly bolting out the door. Outside, he took the hood that was hanging on the door handle and tied it back around his neck where it belonged.

 

Lenore glanced up from where she'd been sitting when Larden exited, her small feet swinging back and forth from her seat on a nearby bench. "Oh, Larden!" She beamed up at him as she leaned forward in her seat. "How was the meeting? I hope Mrs. Brown didn't say anything bad about me?"

 

"She was, ah, worried." Larden smiled, rubbing at his face where the foundation cover-up itched at his skin. "You're scaring the other students, Lenore. She wanted to make sure... home was okay." Larden chuckled at the term okay. Like anything in the house would be okay. Okay to normal people was a nuclear family that ate dinner together and watched soap operas and family movies after dinner. Okay at the Cruentus house involved Lenore eating alone most nights, violent movies after dinner and vampire guardians. Even with that, life was certainly not normal. Not with the kidnapped paranormal investigator and the possibility of a very irate undead man on a war-path (Larden would have been on a war-path, and seeing the similarities, he simply assumed the same of the zombie.)  
  
"Please, can you... _try_ and make... one friend? I fear they will think something is wrong and... invite themselves to the mansion. They can take you away."   
  
Larden glanced at the child. No matter the faults, the violence, the malevolence, or the kidnappings, he was still her guardian and the thought of social services coming was enough to make him want to bite someone.   
  
And Larden wasn't one for hurting people.

 

Lenore frowned a bit at Larden's comments, seemingly processing this information. "I'm scaring them, hm?" She gave a small giggle and hopped up from he seat, straightening her skirt as she did so. "That's a shame, but really it's their own fault. There wouldn't be a problem if they didn't bug me." She seemed confident enough, but her shoulders sagged a bit as she reached for her bag.  
  
"I don't see the point in making friends with them. They don't get me, Larden. Why should I have to pretend to be someone I'm not just because they're too stupid to get it?" She muttered, small fist tightening around the bookbag handle. "'Daddy's girl', 'What's with all the books', 'why are your eyes so weird', 'what happened to your parents, Lenore?'" She let out a harsh, sad sort of laugh and shook her head as she finally shouldered the bag. "It's not like they were lining up to be friends with me before. I don't see what the problem is now."  
  
She gave a quick shake of the head, then suddenly kicked out, her foot connecting squarely with the bench and rattling the thing against the wall. She then took a deep, shaky breath, gritting her teeth as she glared at the wall as if it were responsible for the whole mess. "Fine. I'll find a way to make friends once I'm done with this mission. They're not taking you away too."

 

Larden bent down so the two were on the same level. "Lenore, you don't have to succeed, you just have to _try. Zeigen Sie ihnen_. Show the teachers it's not you who's the problem." He grinned. "You're a smart girl..." Larden paused, rolled a shoulder in a half sort of shrug, and put his hand on her shoulder. "You're a smart _young woman_. You can do just about anything you want."

 

Golden eyes met gold and Lenore blinked. Then she smiled, reaching up to touch Larden's hand. "Yeah... yeah, you're right. I can do that. There's nothing to worry about, we'll make this work somehow." With those words she nodded, adjusted her bag on her shoulder and turned down the hallway. "Well, that's that then. But before I can worry about silly things like that... well, I have a new friend at home, now don't I?" A terrible gleam came to her eyes as she grabbed Larden's hand, then looked up to him and beamed with a smile that was decidedly more unpleasant. "Shall we?"

 

Larden sighed. He hoped they wouldn't get to that. He held her hand anyway and nodded, putting up his hood before they made it out the door.   
  
At least the kidnapping was voluntary.

 

\---

His head throbbed. He couldn't remember why his head was throbbing for the massive throbbing in his temples. It was just as well, he didn't want to think at the moment anyway. He opened his eyes and saw only black, dark thick nothing. Fuzzy nothing. He frowned, feeling a strange tightness pulling his skin to whatever he was sitting on. Uncomfortable and tight and itchy and it smelled of ink and death and he knew automatically it was magic. He stopped fighting it and relaxed, taking a few deep breaths. He didn't need to try and remember anymore, and he wanted to help. In his own sort of way.  
  
Though being bound to a chair was about the worst way to go about it.

 

There came the sound of a door opening, followed by a small, excited gasp. "Oh, good, you're awake!" Lenore exclaimed, sounding as if Christmas had come early. "I was getting kind of worried that maybe the rune I used was too strong, I guess it's not exactly normally meant for a guy your size, but eh, you're alive so it's okay!" Her voice was chipper as she made her way across the room, her footsteps muffled by thick carpet. "Ah, hang on, let me remove that blindfold."  
  
After a moment she did just that and a strip of black cloth was pulled away from Hanna's eyes, revealing a rather tasteful, large room. It was all mostly set in shades of white with accents of black, the theme carrying from things like a large, curtained bed, some very expensive looking furniture and the plush carpet under their feet. The only things that seemed exempt from this rule were the stuffed animals, and there was practically an army of them set upon the bed. Some, however, were missing from this collection, as instead they were all seated around the low tea table that was set to one corner of the room.  
  
This was where Hanna now found himself, seated at this table with several stuffed animals and a tray filled with tea and a variety of snack cakes. Lenore beamed down at the table in question as she skipped around it and sat down across from Hanna, her crow plushie seated to her right. After taking a moment to adjust her dress, she looked to Hanna and beamed. "Would you like some tea, Mr. Cross?" She asked politely as she gestured to the pot.

 

The light increased the throbbing in his temples to the point where Hanna was sure his brain was just going to burst from his head like some horror/action flick death scene. And no matter how awesome that prospect sounded in his head, he really just wanted to think for a minute.   
  
"What's going on?" He asked, wincing a little. He could really not see because someone had removed his glasses and he was blind as a bat without them.

 

Lenore continued to beam as she poured tea into a cup. "Well, I thought it'd be obvious. After last night you came with me, and um, well, I'm sorry. The whole knocking you out thing and blindfolding you, it wasn't anything personal, it's just I can't have to knowing how you got here since well, what happens if you try to escape and can backtrack? Not that you'd try that, I'm sure you're smarter than that, Mr.Cross." She giggled, then held out the teacup. "Tea? I left your hands unbound so we could have a little chat, so you should be fine taking this."

 

Hanna took the cup in his hands, trading it back and forth between them for it was quite hot. "What spell did you use on me?" He asked, a sort of goofy grin plastered on his face. "'Cause I've given Worth a couple to knock me out and they've never given me this kinda headache."

 

The ten-year old blinked at his question, her brow burrowing as for an instant an expression of confusion came over her features. "Oh, ah, I think it was... _atro_ , something like that," She shrugged as she poured herself a cup of tea herself and began to add copious amounts of sugar.

 

Hanna ran the word over in his throbbing mind, before something hit him. "Atro... atra?" He winced. "That explains the throbbing, at least." There was a grim sort of grin on his face - like one that stuck his hand in a mousetrap and knows they probably deserve the pain.   
  
"Uh, why did you use that one?" He asked, after a second. "It's like giving horse pills to a miniature poodle." He chuckled. "It's _major overkill_."

 

Golden eyes stared at him for a moment, then narrowed even as Lenore forced a smile. "Right, _atra_ , my bad. And well, can you blame me? It was originally used for your zombie friend, and really, you may not be as physically strong as him but you certainly have strange abilities. Who knows what you're capable of, am I right? It was merely a precaution." Her tone was somewhat rushed as she spoke these words, as if she were coming up with it on the spot. Judging from the way she glanced absently at the book she had sitting next to her, she probably was. "Now drink your tea," She added, taking a sip of her own.

 

Hanna tried to take a sip of his tea and the swelling of heat in his mouth made his head throb particularly hard. "Heh, you have any regular pain killers I can take?" He grinned sheepishly. "I've got the Jaws theme pounding in my head." He proceeded to hum a little of the theme, going for another sip and this time burning his tongue along with making the throbbing worse.   
  
"Mm, probably wanna get Archibald checked over by Worth when I get home if this did this to me..." He murmured into his teacup.

 

"Oh, right, of course. I put some there for you, actually," The dark-haired girl nodded to Hanna's right, where there were indeed two pills already laid out. She beamed again, drumming her fingernails against the porcelain cup in her hands. "You can't really talk without a clear head, am I right?"

 

Hanna experimented with his arm to make sure that he wasn't tearing any of the bond - and possibly his skin with it - when he reached for the pills. He didn't ask what the pills were- thanks to Worth, he simply took what he was given like a trustworthy child - and simply swallowed them with a little of the tea. He let the tip of his tongue - now undeniably burnt - hang out of his mouth as he let the pills wash relief over him.

 

"Very good," Lenore's smile was patronizing, as if she were the adult here and she was congratulating her child for taking his medicine. "Now then. Do you know why you're here, Mr. Cross, or do I have to remind you?"

 

"You threatened my friends." Hanna went back to his tea. "Heyyy, where did you find a binding spell like this? It's pretty awesome! Even though my skin feels like wood and vice versa, it's _fucking cool_." The sheer delight on Hanna's face was palpable. "All you need is one of those huge silver lights on the stands and a fedora and turn off the lights and you could like, be the mafia."

 

Lenore gave a giggle at that as she sipped her tea. "Very perceptive. My mommy taught me that spell, actually. It was useful when clients didn't feel like doing what daddy wanted." Her gaze grew somewhat distant and a terrible sort of smile came to her face, as if she were reliving the memory. She then looked back to Hanna. "And come on now, don't be sore about such things. I had to get your attention somehow, it couldn't be helped. You have to understand, Mr. Cross, I've been in need of someone like you for awhile."

  
Hanna was still smiling. "You could've asked. I _am_ a paranormal investigator for hire!" He beamed. "I'd be happy to help. Do you have ghosts? Zombies? Weremite infestation? _Do you have unicorns?_ " He gasped and let out a gnee of excitement. "I had to rescue this robot unicorn once, and it tried to bite my hands off."

 

The little girl blinked the redhead's exclamation of excitement, then smiled as well. "Well, don't get me wrong, I _would_ have asked. But well, we both know how the whole situation went back at the warehouse." At these words she set down her now empty teacup and threaded her small fingers together, then propped her chin on her hands. "You see Mr. Cross, my business involves the elimination of paranormal threats. Mostly vampires, but really, anything will do. It's a very hard job, something which I'm sure you're aware of. You have to be capable of going to seemingly impossible lengths... hence where the test came in, which you failed rather spectacularly." At this her grip tightened, her knuckles going white as she glared at Hanna.

 

Hanna nodded into his teacup. "Yeah, that... that is a bit of a problem. Why do you need to eliminate them? I know talking to vampires isn't the _best_ way to go about things, but killing them isn't either."

 

Lenore gave a snort, leaning back in her chair and letting her hands drop. "Well, I suppose that's where you and I differ. No offense, but you're quite naive if you really think killing them _isn't_ the way to go about things. They're demons, Mr. Cross. If you don't kill them, they will eventually kill you. That's how that world of theirs works. They pray on humans, it's just how they operate. Our worlds can't coexist, so I'm doing ours a favor by eliminating theirs... and you will be as well." At these words she pointed to Hanna, her grin returning.  
  
"You _did_ say you'd work for me if I let your little friends go. You're going to keep that promise, aren't you Mr. Cross?"

 

Hanna froze, teacup inches from his lips. "I said I'd work for you, but I won't kill anyone." He nodded with the cup. "And you're wrong, you know."

 

Her grin didn't falter in spite of his words, though her eye gave a slight twitch. "Excuse me, Mr. Cross?" Lenore's voice still kept that sugary sweetness, but there was an icy undertone to it that filled the air with tension and seemed to make the very room shudder even if it really wasn't."I do believe we had a deal. And how, pray tell, am I wrong?"

  
"Vampires. They're not as monstrous as you think." Hanna set his cup down on the table. "Yeah, the eat humans, 'cause they need blood. Can't help that. Just like we kill cows 'cause we need cheeseburgers, or-or 'cause we kill pigs for bacon." He paused a second, stomach gurgling at the idea of good bacon.   
  
"We can't help needing food to live. Killing for meat might be what we're known for, but it doesn't mean we're all like that, or we can't _change_. Connie gets blood from Worth, he doesn't bite people. He's like... people-vegan. Can't we just, maybe, talk to them and see if we can make them people-vegan instead of kill-first," here he mimed shooting someone with the little arm movement he could spare, "ask questions later? They were people once, too." Hanna nodded to himself, insane logic actually making a decent load of sense.

  
Lenore stared at him in silence for a moment. Then she shrugged, nodding her head ever-so-slightly toward Hanna. " _Morsus,_ " She murmured, her voice nearly a whisper as she reached out and grabbed one of the many cakes from a plate.

 

The searing pain felt much like someone had just shot fire into Hanna's arm. His back tried to arch away from the chair and failed, popping a little at the strain. His muscles contracted, his arms hugging his sides, his hands clenching at his jeans enough to pull a hole in them. His head arched back, thudding against the chair, and his mouth opened in a silent scream, his vocal chords too raw and in too much pain to produce sound. The fire in his veins tickled every pain receptor, overloading his head and sending an involuntary tear running down his burning cheeks.   
  
And then it all ebbed. He found his mouth could close and shut it, gritting his teeth against the lingering fire. His head rolled, chin coming to rest against his chest as his body shuddered in the aftershocks.

 

And Lenore just sat and munched on her cake, a smirk coming to her face as Hanna convulsed. When he finally settled she set the cake down, letting out a sigh. "You're wrong. But it's okay, I guess I kind of expected this. After all, I couldn't expect you to see things my way right away, your best friend _is_ a zombie and all. But it's okay," She paused to take another sip of her tea, then looked to the shuddering Hanna.  
  
"Mommy and Daddy had some trouble getting people to see things their way. That's where _these_ spells come in," She reached up to tap a finger against her temple, and her smirk became a grin. "I really hate studying. I'll admit it. It's not like I really need to anyway, I've never had to study for a test in my life. But well, these spells were a bit more of a hobby than a chore, so I made an exception for those. I can cause you pain whenever I want, and that's not all. I have access to the way your body works, I can shatter you without laying a finger on you, and that's _just_ the physical things that I'm capable of." At these words she set her teacup down again and arched a brow at Hanna. "So, with that in mind... are you _sure_ you want to be making an enemy of me, Mr. Cross? All you have to do is do your job. What do you say?"

 

There was a almost feeble, exhausted shake of the head from Hanna. "No." He shook his head again, though the ability to lift it was a different matter entirely. "I won't kill... anyone. I can't kill anyone."

 

Those golden eyes stared blankly at him for another moment. Then she inclined her head slightly, reaching up to brush her fingers through her hair as she spoke the next damning words. "That's a shame, Mr. Cross. _Morsus_."

 

Hanna was a little more prepared for the searing pain this time around. He still arched away from the chair as best he could, feet pressing wrinkles into the carpet and fingers digging into the now bare skin on his legs. His chest heaved as his lungs refused to expand for the pain, and he voiced a small sound. He tried not to bite down on his tongue when he forced his jaw closed, letting the pain ebb away. His chest heaved when he finally drew a deep breath, and the aftershocks came in waves. But he shook his head again, ever resolute. He would not kill.

 

Lenore watched his reaction with a smirk, leaning forward in her chair as she propped her head in her hands again. "What, nothing to say? You were so talkative earlier with your naive little morals. Relax, there's no need to be so tense. I'd _hate_ for you to be afraid of me. Go on, you're free to speak your mind here." Her voice was gentle, almost soothing, a sharp contrast to the pain she'd inflicted seconds ago.

 

Hanna forced a deep breath into his lungs. When he could breathe, he spoke. "You're not gonna hurt my friends just because I've broken the deal." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. Resolute and sure.

 

The dark-haired girl quirked a brow, cocking her head to the side as she considered the statement. Then she shrugged. "You know, I'm not entirely sure. You _did_ break the deal... maybe I should seek them out again as incentive," She murmured thoughtfully, reaching up to tap her chin.

 

Hanna forced himself to glance up at Lenore, his eyes all fire and ice and somehow focusing on her like an eagle even without his glasses. "That wasn't an option." He grit his teeth, the dull throb having returned. " _You will not hurt my friends_."

 

Lenore's eyebrows rose at Hanna's suddenly emboldened response and she moved back slightly. Was this really the same smiling redhead she'd had seated before her minutes ago? He seemed so intense now that she almost felt somewhat frightened, even knowing he was bound and couldn't have hurt her at the moment if he'd tried. After a moment, however, she shook her head. She had no reason to feel threatened, she was in control here.  
  
With a soft laugh she stood up from her seat, her chair sliding easily across the carpet. "Well, since you asked _so very nicely_ I'll consider it. But really, you're very lucky, Mr. Cross. Consider it a gift of sorts," She drawled as she made her way closer to the redhead, her small hand tracing absently along the table as she walked before finally closing on a small knife. "Fortunately for you, I happen to like you very much, and it's occurred to me that you have quite a few things to learn before you can be of any use to me. That's really perfectly fine though, I can be patient when I need to be." Here she paused before Hanna so she was now mere inches from him, face to face due to him being seated and her standing. A terrible grin came over her face as she suddenly leaned in close, her breath still tainted with sweets as it tickled Hanna's ear.  
  
"Be thankful that toying with your little friends will stay off the agenda... for the moment. But keep in mind that it's always a possibility."

 

Hanna, with the threat to his friends so close to his brain, reacted before his mind could process. Going against all his earlier thoughts on not ripping his skin off - that'd be a bitch to fix, probably - he thrashed in his seat, blinding pain running up his arm as he drew blood in several spots, like ripping super-glue straight from skin.   
  
It was one thing to mess with Hanna's life. It was another to threaten his friends.

 

Golden eyes widened in shock and surprise and Lenore leaped back, letting out a yelp as she skidded across the carpeted floor. Her eyes then narrowed and she held up one hand. " _Morsus_!" She cried out again, her yell a sharp contrast with her earlier whisper.

 

The sudden introduction of pain into his system - the meds had numbed the self-inflicted pain - wrenched a strangled, curdling cry from Hanna's throat as he arched like electricity was flowing through him, and combined with the earlier thrashing, his chair went from on edge to overboard, tossing him back with it. He shuddered in a heap on the floor, breathing hard and heavy and bleeding onto the white carpet.   
  
Using the freedom of his hand and his own blood, he improvised as best his vision would allow for, forming a rune on his thigh, just enough to free him from the chair. He then, after he felt the seat unbind itself from his skin like a bandaid - leaving behind blood and tears and who knows what else because Hanna wasn't perfect in his runes, never said he was - proceeded to rolled onto his hands and knees, coughing and sputtering and tasting so much copper that his head swam and all he could do was heave. He heaved until his stomach couldn't stomach the motion, and it didn't matter because the blood was from his mouth and throat and lungs anyway.   
  
He pressed his forehead, sweaty and now bloody, to the soft carpet, forcing deep breaths. _Breath, just gotta keep breathing, Kiwamoto will be upset if I die here, I can't do that to him, just gotta keep breathing and it'll all be alright._

Lenore stood in shock, seemingly paralyzed due to fear. Obviously, this had not been how she had expected the meeting to go down. After a moment she shook her head and rushed to the table, snatching up her book. The pages were a blur as she looked to the gasping, bleeding man on the floor, her eyes livid. Finally she spotted something useful and she threw up her free hand, clenching it tightly into a fist. " _Tumulous_!"  
  
Apparently she got it wrong. as opposed to hitting Hanna, a crushing force suddenly slammed into the table. The wooden legs gave a great, shuddering _crack_ as they buckled under the weight, the table splitting in two. Teacups and plates crashed to the floor, shards of glass flying everywhere as hot tea spread across the carpet in a great auburn stain. The dark-haired girl let out a yelp, but forced himself to look to the book. Apparently she didn't trust herself to try again, as after a moment she shook her head and simply held out her free hand. " _Nare_ ," She growled out, gesturing. The chair, which had been knocked over when Hanna escaped it, righted itself. Hanna soon followed, his body moving as if on its own and hitting the chair with a somewhat violent _'thud'_.  
  
Once she was sure Hanna was seated Lenore flipped to another page and made her way to the chair, running her fingers along the back of it and whispering a few things under her breath. This task completed, she gave a sigh and stepped in front of Hanna again. "Well," She said as she brushed a strand out hair out of her face, glaring at the redhead. "That was a bit of a mishap. I hope you won't be doing that again?" Her voice was that same sweet tone she'd used before, but there was no attempt at masking the rage in her expression.

 

Hanna couldn't respond. All he could think and feel and taste was copper and pain and sticky wet blood running down his shirt and face. The chair hurt against his ripped and bleeding back and thighs and arms and there was no way he had any energy to try that again, or do anything else for that matter. He felt like he left his insides on the carpet, and he groaned softly at the thought.   
  
Worth was gonna _kill him_.

 

  
Lenore watched him for a moment. Then she knelt down, reaching out to grab the knife she'd been holding earlier from the floor. "You know," She murmured as she held the thing in her hands, gazing at her reflection. "You got blood and tea on my carpet. I really liked this carpet." She fell silent for a moment, simply looking between Hanna and the knife in her hands.   
  
Then she opted to slap him in the face instead, the loud _'crack'_ of skin against skin ringing through the room. "Consider that a warning," She growled as she tossed the knife aside.

 

Hanna let his head sort of hang and looked up at Lenore with his wide, glasses-less eyes, blood dripping off his eyelashes. There was something in those eyes that stated that he didn't care what she did to him. That his friends were worth so much more to him than his own situation, and he didn't care what she did. But they also resembled the eyes of an abused puppy, asking _how can you do this to someone who hasn't done you wrong?_. Asking what kind of person Lenore was.

 

The ten-year old simply smiled in response, then reached out to brush a bit of blood from Hanna's face. "I really am sorry, Mr. Cross. I thought we could discuss this civilly, but it seems you have a lot to learn. It's not like I want to hurt you, but you have to understand... I have a job to do, and I do desperately want you to be involved. And well, you know, I'm _always_ right. You brought it upon yourself, really," She murmured, her voice sounding almost sad now. "But it's alright. Daddy had to deal with similar things when he was in charge, and he always made everyone play nice in the end. It may hurt now, but you'll understand soon enough. Then we'll play every day and maybe your zombie friend can visit. Won't that be great, Mr. Cross?"  
  
Hanna simply let his head droop back to stare at his bloody lap. It took too much work to watch her, and he didn't hurt enough to hate her. So he sat, grateful that at least his friends were alive.   
  
For now.   
  
Lenore beamed and leaned over to pat Hanna on the head. "You'll grow to like it, I'm sure!" With those words she stood and picked her book up from the table, then made her way toward the door. "You just sit there and think about what you've done, okay? I'll be back. I'd play more, but well, I have homework. I'm sure you understand." She paused at the doorway, then looked back to the redhead.  
  
"Right, well, I guess we'll talk later then. Bye, Mr. Cross~!" She gave a wink and a light wave, then vanished through the door.  
  
And then quite suddenly Hanna was alone.


	7. Chapter 7

For the second time in the past few nights, Worth found his personal space suddenly being invaded by surprise guests.  
  
And, as with last time, he once again succeeded in toppling to the floor with a violent _'thud'_ , his whole office seeming to shake with the force of the disaster. " _God-fucking-damnit!"_ He howled as he reached up to clutch at his throbbing head. He then groped about on the dingy floor blindly to find his dropped cigarette, ranting all the awhile. "Damnit Hanna I am so fucking sick of you barging in like this, it's bullshit! I shouldn't have to yell at you for slamming open my door at all damn hours, I'm not that old and-- God-fucking-damnit where did I drop-- AHA!"  
  
Long fingers plucked the cigarette from the floor, and after squinting at it for a moment Worth decided he'd probably built an immunity to whatever could be on the floor at this point. He popped the cigarette into his mouth and climbed to his feet, brushing a bit of the grime off of his coat as he did so. "Do I have to start fucking beating you with a newspaper or-- yooooooooou are not Hanna," He said, blinking as he stared at the zombie in the doorway.  
  
Said zombie stood there, looking more anxious than the doctor had ever seen him. His orange eyes seemed distant as his gloved hand gripped tightly on the doorframe. After a moment he shook his head and finally stepped inside without another word.  
  
Worth's brow furrowed. The undead man wasn't exactly expressive on normal terms, but this was weird. When he added the fact that he'd never seem the zombie without Hanna close behind or even in the larger man's arms under certain circumstances, well, he had to admit he was a bit put off. "Ah, dead man. I see Hanna managed to deliver five thousand dollars in twenties at eleven o' five or what-the-fuck ever and you're n' dead again. Fantastic, now I won't have to deal wit' the little bastard whining about you going missing. Where the fuck is he, anyway? And the rest of the undead fanfare, while we're at it?" He inquired as he leaned against the desk, cocking his head to the side as he tried to look past the zombie to the door frame, half expecting Hanna to come bursting in at any moment.  
  
Or maybe it was more like he was _hoping_ , but that would be ridiculous because Worth didn't do things like that.  
  
"Hanna's gone." Conrad was nearly seething as he leaned against the now vacant doorway. His arms were crossed and his fingers gripped at his shirt sleeves. "The idiot traded himself for us."  
  
Worth stared blankly at his visitors for a moment. Then he shook his head and looked again. "You're joking," He finally sputtered out. The zombie across from him just shook his head. The doctor's eyebrows rose and he let out a curse as he reached a hand up to run it through his hair. " _Shit_... Goddamnit, that asshole _would_ get himself kidnapped rescuing someone..." There was a moment of silence as he let out a smoke-filled breath, then suddenly kicked the side of his desk violently. "What the _fuck_!? What happened?"  
  
The zombie's gaze was somewhat pained as he spoke. "There was a girl... we met her a few days ago when you gave us the information from Lamont. She had a vampire for a bodyguard... we didn't realize what she was at the time. The other day the vampire came by. I assumed he needed our help, so I let him in and he knocked me out..." He trailed off, seeming at a loss as to how to put the rest into words. Worth just glared at him from the desk.  
  
"And Hanna drug me after him to the abandoned warehouse as his fucking rescue party." Conrad supplied. "And then he traded himself in so that neither of us would die." There was a somber tint to the seething words, because no matter how pissed off Conrad was at Hanna at that moment, he was rather grateful that he didn't have to die, either.  
  
"...You serious?" Worth grunted after a another moment of silence. "You mean to tell me you all had your asses handed to you by _little girl_? How the _fuck_ does a little kid get away with kidnapping dead bodies and threatening to kill things that are _already fucking dead_ anyway!?" He snapped, throwing his hands up in the air.  
  
"She's a witch. She was threatening me and asking Hanna to kill Conrad in exchange for my... life," There was a surprising amount of bitterness in the zombie's tone as his gaze went to the floor, eyes narrowing slightly. "And of course, Hanna did... exactly what Hanna always does."  
  
"He played the fuckin' hero because he couldn't choose," The doctor put in, his gaze distant. "That damned idiot... shoulda known he'd pull something this stupid." He then slammed his hand down on the desk, teeth grinding down on his cigarette as he shook his head violently. "You Goddamn _morons_. How the _hell_ do you get held at gunpoint by a _kid_? You're a fucking zombie and a _vampire_ , why didn't you use some of your damned, I dunno, innate mystical sparkly Captain Planet innate magical ability bullshit!? You know that shithead! Why the _fuck_ didn't you stop him!?"  
  
"What the FUCK do you think we were going to do? We tried to fucking stop him!" Conrad snapped.  
  
"Not hard enough, apparently!" Worth growled in return. Between the two arguing, Hanna's zombie friend just stood there in silence. His gaze was still on the floor, every second seeming to place a heavier weight on thick shoulders. The doctor glared at the two for another moment, then stepped back from the desk and let out a sigh. "Right, well, that's fan-fucking-tastic. What the hell are you people doing here, then? I'd be expecting a cavalry charge from Lancelot here, not a fucking visit to the good 'ol doctor."  
  
The zombie would have been amused by the comment in any other moment, but now was certainly not the time. "I wanted to, actually. But we have no idea where he is and Conrad insisted we come see you." It was rather clear he wasn't terribly pleased with this and would rather be just about anywhere else.  
  
Worth's eyebrows rose at that and his eyes darted to Conrad. "You actually _suggested_ coming to see me!?" He sputtered, anger forgotten in favor of a smug grin. "I never thought I'd see the day! What next, are you actually gonna come out of the closet or admit you wear girls clothes or some shit like that?"  
  
Conrad stiffened, shoulders going up in a clear sign of defense. "I wasn't coming to see _you_!" He spat out. "They knocked him out! I said we better get him checked out just in case they did something to him! The girl is _fucking sadistic_ , I wouldn't put it past her to rig something up in him so he'd faint if he came to the rescue!" The explanation was delivered at a defensive, snappy pace.  
  
The doctor gave a snort as he flicked some ash from his cigarette. "That so? Fine, whatever. Back room, assholes," He muttered, jerking a thumb in that direction. Hanna's zombie friend immediately did as he was told, eager to get the whole mess over with so he could hurry up and look for Hanna. He was proceeded by a swearing Worth, whom kicked his own door open before proceeding to go through several doors, grumbling all the while.  
  
"I still don't see how it is you got your asses handed to you by a little girl," Worth muttered as he gestured for Zombie to sit on one of the tables. "I also dun' get why you people keep coming to me. First I'm fuckin' Sherlock, now I'm a fuckin' witch doctor, Jesus fucking Christ."  
  
The undead man shook his head as he sat down on the table, absently musing that normally this was _Hanna's_ spot, not his. "I believe you're technically the expert."  
  
"Feh," Worth snorted as he picked up a rusty stethoscope and glanced over it. After squinting for a moment he scowled and tossed the thing aside with a grumble of "He doesn't have a fucking heartbeat, Christ". One wouldn't be able to tell if one didn't know Worth, but it was clear to the zombie that the doctor was considerably more agitated than usual.  
  
"I don't want to be here as much as you don't want us here." Conrad half murmured, half snapped, shoulders up by his ears. He had noticed the fact that Worth seemed to be bitchier to them than general.  
  
The blond gave an outright laugh at this. "Uh huh. Bullshit, ya don't want ta be here. Came running with your Goddamn tails between your fuckin' legs, that's what ya fuckin' did. You..." He trailed off as he finally stopped to look at the zombie sitting on the table.  
  
Those orange eyes were narrowed into the closest thing to anger that Worth had ever seen from the undead man. The zombie, normally so unexpressive, was actually visibly tense. Green fingers clenched at the table below him as orange eyes bored holes into Worth's head, as if he could make the man catch fire with a glare. The anger really wasn't the worst part about the whole thing, as those eyes spoke of a number of other emotions that seemed so alien to those eyes.  
  
Pain. A sense of loss and impossible failure that couldn't be put into words, a burden of guilt so heavy that the road ahead seemed that much longer.   
  
After a moment, Worth finally let out a loud sigh and looked away. "So what's the plan, then? Phone the fuckin' cavalry or whatever?" He asked as he set his supplies down on the table.  
  
"I don't know." Conrad found he almost felt _defeated_ at the lack of action or plan. He pushed the feeling away for general anger because really, pissed off was a familiar setting. " _Fuck_ , we don't even know where he is!"  
  
Worth rolled his eyes as he began to poke and prod at the undead man on the table. "Thank you, Sparklepire, I got that earlier. Here's a thought: Iffin' ya don't know where the fuck he is, maybe ya should start _lookin'_ ," He drawled around the cigarette clenched in his teeth.  
  
"What the hell do you think we're going to go do, you asshole?" Conrad snapped back. The swelling of rage felt all too good in the face of the other emotions running through his head. "You know, if you were less of a dick and left the hell-hole you call an office more often we might find him sooner! All we know right now is that the creepy-ass girl and her bodyguard are fucking _nuts_ and _after my blood_ and _if it weren't for Hanna I wouldn't be going within ten feet of them in the first place!"_  
  
"Oh boo-fuckin'-hoo, if ya went by your fuckin' opinion of how the world works, everyone and their mother would be after your blood. 'Baaaw the whole world is against me and is so unfair, I'm going to go cry in the rain where no one can see my little sad vampire tears of blood'," Worth gave a harsh laugh as he dropped the mocking tone, then lifted up one of the zombie's arms. His grip was a bit too tight, but if the undead man noticed he didn't say anything. In spite of his typical insults, his agitation was still quite clear, and this seemed to be translating quite well into his arguments. "She's a Goddamn _kid_ , it can't be that fucking hard. Just suck it up and spank her or somethin'. You dun need my Goddamn help, and I wouldn't help you with this shit anyway. You can print out your own missing doggy posters or whatever, 's not my job."  
  
Conrad was all ready to shout at the doctor, to scream and bitch and just take it all out on him because, hell, Worth wouldn't budge nor stop and Conrad could get sick and tired of the whole thing real fast. He opened his mouth, but then he closed it. He tried again, and once again failed. Something was stopping him. There was something about the doctor that didn't _feel_ right. Something about his mannerisms and his tone and the extra PMS style bitching that he was laying on thick for no reason. And then it clicked in Conrad's head, like he'd found that one damn puzzle piece that he needed to keep moving. Worth had to have a reason. So when Conrad opened his mouth again, there was no bitching or howling about him being emo or whatever the doctor implied.   
  
"You act like we fucking asked you to come with us!" Conrad couldn't help but release his rage in the statement anyway, but then it sort of died. "...do you?" His rage was stifled by the idea. The audacity of the idea. That, and how true the idea could ring. Worth was a bitch, hell yeah, but he was a bitch that was currently looking them over even when he had no reason to... except helping them would help Hanna.  
  
Worth stopped. He just stopped, pale fingers suddenly clenching tightly around the zombie's wrist. "You fuckin' serious?" He let the green-tinted limb drop as he turned to face Conrad, his cigarette nearly dropping out of his mouth. After a moment of staring he let out a harsh, terrible laugh, almost as if he were choking on it. "You _are_. Jesus fucking Christ, what is with you people? First Hanna, now you too? What part of _I'm a doctor_ , don't you fucking get? I don't do that shit, I wouldn' go even if you fuckin' asked."  
  
"Then why bring it up?" The undead man wondered aloud as he reached out to absently rub his wrist, the only indication that he'd even noticed the doctor's rough treatment. He quirked a brow as he glanced up at the doctor, clearly raising a silent question.  
  
The doctor scowled and rolled his eyes. "'M just cuttin' you off 'fore you get started, that's all. I know how you people work. 'Oh no Worth I broke my knee, fix it!' 'Oh Worth give me some blood I'm starving' and then before you know it you're askin' for every Goddamned handout and bit of help under the damned sun and acting like you're fuckin' special. Here's news for you pussies: _you're not_. You're just more damned customers and you're shitty ones at that."  
  
"If we're such shitty customers, why the hell do you keep helping us?!" Conrad asked. "You had plenty of chances to kick us the fuck out - if we're so god damn bad, then do it!"  
  
Dark eyes narrowed and Worth glared at him for a moment. It was almost as if he seemed lost, as if he were facing down some sort of challenge and was currently tangled in some small mental battle. Finally, he removed his cigarette from his mouth and spat, liquid hitting the grimy floor with a disgusting _'splat!'_ at Conrad's feet. "You know... you've got a fuckin' point," He grunted, slamming the instrument he'd been using down on the table. "You're both fucking dead, this ain't in my job description. Get the fuck out." With those words he pointed to the door.  
  
The zombie blinked in surprise at him, which only made Worth flash a terrible sneer as he folded his arms before him. "You think I'm joking? Get out. I dun have to deal with you fucking patronizing me and there's nothin' wrong with you that I can see. I let you in here 'cause Hanna's a fucking regular customer, and for the record, that's _all_ he is. I don't go charging into danger for a damn customer. So get out."  
  
Again those orange eyes stared at him for a moment. Then, wordlessly, the zombie rose from the table, landing on his feet with ease. He then reached out and grabbed his coat, then turned for the door.  
  
"You're an asshole." Conrad wasn't even looking at the doctor as he spoke. He was watching the door where the zombie had just left. "Knowing Hanna, he's probably in a shitload of trouble by now. If he'd dead when we find him... I'll fucking kill him." Conrad's shoulders slumped and his hands balled into fists, betraying the fact that underneath the thick layer of anger, he really would kill Hanna if the kid were dead.  
  
"Tch," Worth huffed as he shoved a hand into his pocket, gaze going to one of the many cracks in the wall. "He won't die. He's a dumbass, but he's n' that pathetic. Gettin' killed by a ten-year old is more _your_ style, Fagula." After a few moments he managed to tug his crumpled pack of cigarettes loose and began to struggle with getting one of the cancer sticks out. His shaking hands were making this frustratingly difficult.  
  
 _"Fuck,_ " He finally hissed as he gave up and slammed the shaking hand on the table again. "Look... I'll talk t' Lamont. Bastard's always had a soft spot for the kid, 'm sure he'll want t' look. You tell the rest of the damned undead cavalry to focus on the nicer neighborhoods. Spoiled brat like that's got to have a pretty fuckin' ritzy place, there can't be _that_ many places like that in this hellhole." With those words he stalked toward his back room, clearly intent on seeing if his shaking hands could handle vodka better than the cigarettes.  
  
\---  
  
"You know Mr. Cross, we don't have to keep doing this."  
  
Lenore's voice was sickeningly sweet, echoing through the study where Hanna had been moved. Soft, pale fingers traced lazily along newly made, thin slices that dotted the redhead's arms. "It really does tear me up inside to keep doing this to you, Mr. Cross. I'd hate for you to see me as the bad girl here."  
  
Still the fingers traced upward, brushing against a bruised collarbone and shining burn-marks. She paused at Hanna's throat and rested there for a moment, feeling him breathe before continuing upward. "I really would like us to play, Mr. Cross... but well, you're the one that had to be difficult." Her hands finally came to rest on Hanna's face, pressing the flat of the small knife in her hands against his cheek as golden eyes met electric blue. "Aren't you tired of this yet, Mr. Cross? We don't have to keep going if you don't want to. All you have to do is say the magic word."  
  
Hanna barely heard her through his own heartbeat in his ears. He could feel the trickle of blood running wet lines down his arms and legs, the tingling dull searing ache from the burns pounding in time with his heart, the dull ache of bruises and the grate of broken bone as he shifted a little against his bindings. The taste of his own blood was an all too familiar thing by this point, the metallic flavor almost a godsend because it meant he was still alive, still had enough blood to live, to bleed, to survive.   
  
Still, he shook his head no, his hair - wet from sweat and blood - bobbing alone with his head, and his brows, so tight, drawing his forehead into tiny wrinkles. His eyes, when he had them open, held only one question, one word, one plea - why?  
  
Lenore gazed at him for a moment, then let out a sigh. "That's not an answer, Mr. Cross." She clicked her tongue. There was then a blur of moment, a swallow red line drawing across Hanna's cheek as she tugged the knife away. The dark-haired girl stood there with the bloodied knife, eyes narrowed. "You have to _speak_ if you want to get your message across."  
  
After a moment of silence she let out a small laugh and began to fiddle with the knife in her hands. "I'm sorry, you're right. I'm expecting an awful lot from you and I'm not being terribly clear. Here, let me remind you where we stand. When this all started, I do believe we had a deal. Unfortunately, we didn't see eye to eye on some things, soooo I had to teach you lesson. I think by now you're more than capable of making a proper answer. So tell me, Mr. Cross. Will you work for me yet?"  
  
Hanna had to swallow before he could speak. "If it still means killing... no." He watched the fresh blood from his cheek drip onto his shirt and didn't look up.  
  
The dark-haired girl watched him for another moment, then shrugged. "You made the choice," She said before tapping one finger against Hanna's temple. " _Lumen._ "  
  
Hanna felt the charge running through him like he was nothing and his entire body tensed and contracted and shook and thrashed for a good, long moment. When he felt himself calming, the copper in his mouth fresh - he must have bit his tongue, he hoped he still had the whole thing, that'd suck if it were gone - he took a deep breath and forced out a question.  
  
"Why do you think hurting me is going to make me change my mind?"  
  
Lenore frowned at his question, then shrugged. "Isn't that how most people learn? You do something stupid, you get hurt, you don't do it again. That's how daddy worked the business. If you're smart enough and able to make people scared of you, then you're right. You don't always have to hurt people, but if you're right and they won't listen... well, sometimes you have to hurt people to make them see things the right way. That's just how it is." Her tone was matter-of-fact, as if the answer should have been obvious.  
  
"Making people afraid doesn't make you right." Hanna frowned. "It just makes people afraid to tell you you're wrong."  
  
The dark-haired girl blinked in obvious confusion, her frown deepening. "What are you talking about? No, that's not how it works. I'm right, and that's why I can do this. That's why daddy worked the way he did. People were _scared_ because he was right. It had nothing to do with anyone being scared to say he was wrong... it was just that he was right, so we were able to do what we did. That's all there is to it." She shook her head and gave another laugh as she hopped onto a nearby table, stocking feet swinging back and forth. "You must just be confused. It would make more sense if you'd met Daddy... he was always right. What he wanted was always right, he said, and if people didn't listen then he made them listen. I'm probably just not explaining it right. Don't worry, you'll understand soon enough." As she spoke, a warm smile came to her face, her gaze distant.  
  
"Just because you can, doesn't mean it's right." Hanna replied. "Just because your dad does it like this doesn't mean it's the right thing to do." Hanna didn't know why he was pleading with Lenore - she didn't seem like she would un-stubborn herself enough to change. Yet, Hanna tried to change her anyway, because that was what Hanna did. He negotiated and hoped and tried to make people's lives better, one person at a time.  
  
Lenore's eyes narrowed as she looked to Hanna again. "Obviously you have a very twisted view on what's right then, Mr. Cross," She scowled. "If you'd known my father, you'd understand. But it's fine... just because he's gone doesn't mean I can't take his lessons to heart. _Morsus_."  
  
Hanna grit his teeth as the pain washed over him, making him feel like his arms were being sliced open fresh again, his burns being burned again, his bones being cracked and broken and bruised all over again, ten times worse than the first. The agony roared through him for a long moment, and then he relaxed as it ebbed away. It had almost become a routine. The pain, the torture. He wondered if Lenore would ever let him go; if she'd ever see that she wasn't doing the right thing. He wondered if he would feel this alone for the rest of his life.  
  
"Honestly, Mr. Cross. I don't see why this is so difficult," Lenore muttered as she hopped off of the desk, making her way toward Hanna again. Her eyes were still narrowed, her fingers twitching slightly as she made her way toward him again. She was clearly growing somewhat agitated. "Is it really so hard to understand? I'm right. My daddy was right. It's not _that_ hard. We're doing the right thing, why can't you see that? If you don't listen to me, people are going to die. Is that really so hard!? I'm right, why can't you see that I'm right!?" Her voice was picking up in pitch and tone now as she reached out to grab Hanna's chin, forcing him to look at her as she snarled in his face.  
  
"I am right, Daddy was right, and if you'd just _listen_ we wouldn't have this problem! Who are you to tell me I am wrong, who are you tell to me he was wrong? _Why can't you see what I'm doing is a good thing!_?" Her fingers clenched tightly now, digging into Hanna's skin, her eyes growing somewhat wild.  
  
Hanna was about to respond, to tell her that if he listened, people would die _anyway_ , but a quiet knock on the closed door interrupted him. He went silent as the knock sounded again.  
  
"Lenore?" The voice behind the door was slightly meek - he must have heard the raised voices, and really, Larden didn't _want_ to know why - and there was the faintest clink of china. "I know you're probably busy, but I-I brought tea and those little cake-things you like."  
  
The dark-haired girl blinked, her grip loosening on Hanna's chin. Then she grinned. "Oooh, really? Oh Lar-Lar, you're the best~!" She gushed, allowing her hand to drop. She immediately spun on her heels and rushed for the door, pausing only to look back to the redhead and beam. "Okay, we're done playing for now. I'll be back after teatime, okay Mr. Cross?" She chirped, suddenly all smiles.  
  
Hanna nodded. A break from the pain was always good. The knocks came again, a little more persistent this time.   
  
"Lenore, let Mr. Cross have a break - you've probably talked him to death by now." There was a chuckle with the words, and a terrible sense of obviousness to the things going on behind Lenore's closed doors.  
  
"Okay~!" The ten-year old gave a quick wave to Hanna, then stepped out of the room. After closing the door behind her she turned to face her friend, golden eyes lighting up as she caught sight of the tray in his hands. "Oooh, you did bring me lots of goodies!" She exclaimed excitedly as she reached out to snatch a cake.  
  
Larden was staring at her with a very confused set of his eyebrows. "Lenore?" He sounded curious and mildly worried. "You have, ah, _blut... blood_ on your dress."  
  
"Hm?" Lenore blinked, then glanced down. "Oh, you're right. Whoops!" She stuck a finger into her mouth, then frowned as she began to scrub at it. "Awww, I don't think it's coming out.... I liked this dress," She pouted.  
  
"I'll wash it later. Why don't we take tea in _mien zimmer_ , er, room. " Larden felt a hint of a smile come to his face as he turned to head down the hall towards his room, silver tea tray coming with him. He paused. "And, ah, the blood... did... did he hurt himself again?"  
  
Lenore nodded as she followed Larden, a small frown coming to her face. "He's very stubborn... I don't get why. Daddy never seemed to have as much trouble convincing people." Her brow furrowed as she put her hands behind her back, seemingly thoughtful. A smirk then came to her face. "Maybe I'll have to try more of his methods."  
  
"Aren't your father's methods... a tad harsh?" Larden asked, hiding a wince by turning to open the door to his room with his back. He knew her father's methods rather well, considering he was never her father's favorite. He made a list of her father's favorite things once and he managed to beat out other supernatural creatures, at least, but not cockroaches.   
  
He kicked off his shoes by the door to his room, which was never completely closed, and padded across the plush carpet to a desk pushed against the far wall. There was a chair by the wall that looked like it was barely used, which he pulled up for Lenore with his foot. He shifted aside a clipboard and random papers, all in his handwriting and in German, to set the tea down before taking a seat on the long desk beside the food-things he couldn't eat anyway.   
  
The rest of the room was rather sparse, and sort of small for such a large house. A dresser, a bed, and a thick black curtain stapled over the only window. That, and a massive amount of pillows scattered over the bed and floor, only making the room look smaller. Larden mused over the size for a single moment, yet one more testament to Lenore's father's dislike of him: the place was a closet compared to the rest of the house. Luckily, Larden liked quaint and small.   
  
"Maybe... have you gotten... his side of things?" Larden asked, crossing his legs on the desk top. "Maybe if you... make things nice to him, he would be easier to... convince."  
  
Lenore's brow furrowed in confusion. "But I _was_ nice. I asked him politely and everything!" She exclaimed as she hopped into her customary seat. She munched on her cake in silence for a moment, looking thoughtful. "And I did too get his side... his side's just _wrong_ Larden. I don't get why he doesn't see that. I'm trying to do a good thing!" She muttered as she licked the remnants of the frosting off of her tiny fingers.  
  
"Sometimes... it is hard to make people see they are... wrong." Larden studied his feet as he formed his words. "Sometimes... it might be best to _erklären_... ah, explain why they are wrong. A-A puppy might do something wrong, but... think it is not wrong. Do you hurt the puppy, or... do you explain until it... understands?" He smiled. "Maybe... your father's approach is... a little too close to... ah, hurt, to be good, I think. Maybe... be like _Dame Cruentus_... your mother, more."  
  
"Maybe," Lenore murmured as she sat in the chair, kicking her legs back and forth. Her brow furrowed more as she sat there, gazing down at her blood-spattered lap. "He said Daddy was wrong," She finally said after a moment of silence, biting her lip. "Daddy was never wrong... I don't understand how anyone could say that about him." She shook her head. "I'm not a bad person, Larden, and neither was he... I'm just doing what Daddy taught... Mommy was good too. If they were here, they'd know what to do."  
  
"You must remember, he did not know your father." Larden reached out to put a hand on her head as comfort. "He is... very good in his heart. An..." He paused, thinking, realizing he didn't know the word he wanted to use, even in a round about way and murmuring a curse, " _Ein engel_ would think a man was wrong in everything, even though man is not wrong at all." He smiled sheepishly, hoping she understood.  
  
The dark-haired girl took a deep breath, then nodded. "Yeah... yeah, that's a good point. I'll just... I'll just have to explain better, that's all." She smiled up at Larden. "Thank you Lar-Lar, you're so smart! You always know just what to say!" On that note she reached out and grabbed her cup of tea, taking a sip. She made a happy sort of noise as she sipped it, apparently deeming it painfully sweet enough. After a few moments of this she set the cup down and glanced over at the clipboard. "Are you working on your English writing or something?"  
  
"No, no. That is a letter to _meine mutter_. You know how she can get when I do not write to her. I should... probably work on my English, though." He chuckled, and pushing the drawer below him open with his foot, he grabbed what looked like a high-school language workbook and set it in his lap. "We have had... a chaotic household, ja? I have... forgotten it."  
  
Lenore gave a giggle at Larden's comments. "It's okay. Hey, I can help if you want! Mr. Cross needs a break anyway!" She declared excitedly as she hopped up from her seat. She then paused, apparently realizing she'd forgotten something. The dark-haired girl then turned, grabbed her teacup and downed it all in one gulp before grabbing a cake. She winced a bit at the heat, then promptly hopped onto Larden's bed. Her thin form nearly vanished into the great mass of pillows as she sunk into them. Once she'd gotten herself settled, she looked to Larden and beamed. "Okay, I'm ready to help!"  
  
Larden grabbed a pencil from the desk, the workbook, and the tray of cakes and hopped off the desk. He set the cakes on the end of the bed, before stripping off the sweater, leaving only his slightly bloodied white shirt. He then crawled onto the bed and settled next to Lenore, pencil behind his ear, before pulling the tray of cakes up closer. He let a contented smile wash across his face as he snuggled closer, opening his workbook to the last page he had been working on.   
  
Life in the Cruentus household might have been chaos. It might've been hell. But at that moment, Larden could care less. For that moment, he could be completely at ease.


	8. Chapter 8

The evening sun tickled Hanna's arms lightly, and he woke, head spinning rapidly as he tried to lift it. It had been several days already, magicked to that chair in that study. His skin was burnt along his arms, cut and ripped and shredded with magic and knives. He had burns on his neck and face, jagged bloody lines and scabs all down his legs, and his skin was still mangled from his original escape attempt. He was sure he had a broken shoulder and a twisted ankle and probably no whole ribs remaining, all shards and broken pieces waiting to poke the wrong way into a lung. He let his head roll back, the smell of burnt hair, skin, and his own blood, tainted with the burn of magic and stale cleaner someone had attempted to clean up with, filling his nose and nearly making him sick. His stomach growled and groaned at him in a feeble way of saying that the bottom-less-pit that was Hanna's stomach was pretty damn empty. The redhead smiled at the idea of having a conversation with his stomach, the kind of sillyness he loved now so vacant from his life. It wasn't the only thing missing, either.   
  
A raindrop hit the window and Hanna started, being confined to the chair so he couldn't jump from his seat. Upon seeing that it was only rain, he relaxed. He had been hoping it was the zombie, or Conrad, or Veser, or Toni, or Lamont, or Worth, or Ples, or anyone coming to at least give him a hand, if not a burger or some pancakes.   
  
He really didn't need to think about the zombie's pancakes, because it only made him hungrier.   
  
Maybe they had given up. The thought had crossed Hanna's mind more than once. Even he didn't know where he was right then - there was a good chance they didn't either. How would they know where he was? He could be miles and miles away.   
  
He glanced at the door. Something in him hoped they had given up, because if they came in guns blazing, they'd get hurt. Hanna was there so that no one would get hurt. Except for him, but he could live with that. No matter how alone and hopeless he felt at times, he felt better knowing that hey, his friends were safe and probably having a good time without him, at one of Toni's plays or in Conrad's apartment watching the DVDs he rented and that he probably needed to return.   
  
He wondered if he'd ever get home to return them.   
  
"Aw, phooey," Lenore's voice echoed in a low whine as she stepped into the study, looking to the window and pouting. "Raining again? I hate rain. It's all wet and cold and _ew_." She wrinkled her nose as she closed the door behind her, then made her way toward Hanna. "How about you, Mr. Cross? What do you think of rain?" She asked conversationally as she placed her hands behind her back, as if she were speaking to him over lunch and not as his tormentor over the past few days.  
  
"Caesar never liked rain that much." Hanna murmured. There was something missing in his voice - a level of exciteness that he always had, gone. Lenore foretold pain and nothing else. Nothing Hanna looked forward too.  
  
Lenore gave a snort at this. "Well, he ruled an empire, now didn't he?" She said as she came to a stop before Hanna, beaming down at him. "At any rate, how are you feeling? Perhaps more cooperative today?"  
  
"Not the ruler, my friend." Hanna corrected. He ignored her question, hoping that maybe his silence would be enough of a no to let her leave him alone. He ached all over, and on the inside. _The friend I'll never see again_ , he thought.   
  
The dark-haired girl's grin fell into a confused frown. "Your friend... you mean the zombie?" She blinked, looking rather confused. "Oh yeah, that's right... you've called him a lot of names, it's weird. Also kind of weird that you call him a friend, but... well, I suppose you have a vampire for a friend too, don't you?" She chuckled and shook her head. "Ah Mr. Cross, you're such a character. But if you feel like cooperating, maybe I can take you to see your friends." She cocked her head to the side, gazing down at him to gauge his reaction. She'd left the subject of Hanna's friends alone after the incident from the first day, but today she decided to be different.  
  
Maybe the way to Hanna was through them after all, just as when she'd caught him in the first place.  
  
Hanna looked positively delighted before he remembered what cooperating entailed. He frowned and looked back at the window, hands clenching where he sat. "Lenore, you know I won't kill anyone for you."  
  
Lenore let out a low hum. "Is that so?" She began to pace around Hanna's chair, tracing her finger along the top edge. "But Mr. Cross, think about it. Your friends are probably looking for you. I promise you I won't hurt them... but if they show up and I have to do it out of self defense, well... nothing I can do. Wouldn't you rather see them yourself? I'm sure they'd all love to see you again."  
  
Hanna forced his eyes closed, ignoring the idea of seeing everyone he loved again. "I'm not a murder, Lenore, I _help_ people." He murmured. "I don't kill them."  
  
"But you _would_ be helping them," Lenore's hands were on Hanna's shoulders now, her eyes narrowing as she stared ahead. "Why can't you see that, Mr. Cross? We're trying to do a good thing here... think of all the people who have been hurt by vampires, by those creatures. Think of how many lives you could save if you actually _fought_."  
  
"One less than I did when I chose not to." Hanna looked up to meet Lenore's eyes. "I didn't fight Sassybat, so she lived; I saved Conrad's life... I helped Machiavelli and Toni; I give Worth something to do and I helped Veser and Ples and I helped Lee even though he was already dead. If I fought, none of those lives would be better."  
  
The grip on Hanna's shoulders tightened. "And think of all the lives you've _lost_ , Mr. Cross," She growled. "That vampire you let loose, how many people do you suppose she's killed huh? How many people do you suppose that ghost hurt because you didn't stop it like you _should_ have? I've been researching you, Mr. Cross, I know what you've done. Did you ever stop to consider just how many lives you've _ended_? Can't you see how many people you've _hurt_? If you fought, in the end you would have had less collateral damage." She paused a moment, then gave a harsh laugh.  
  
"Don't you realize it, Mr. Cross? You're a screw-up. A talented screw-up, but a screw-up none-the-less."  
  
"I don't claim that I can save everyone." Hanna had a steeled, serious face as he spoke, and his voice was something akin to passionate, the gleeful, obvious optimist part of him currently spread out on the floor with his shed blood.   
  
"I know that, yeah, in the end, people die. People die and I can't help that. But I'd rather save who I can and know that I helped a single life, a single person, and in that moment, no one died, than kill something just because it hurts people and know that I lost one life that day, not because I screwed up like always, but because I ruined it with my own hands. Lives aren't meant to be ruined, they're meant to be cherished, and sometimes, you've got to cherish it for them, rather than killing them."  
  
Lenore stood in silence for a moment, her grip painfully tight on Hanna's shoulders. She then released him, stepping around only so she could properly slap him in the face. "You idiot," She spat out, her expression positively livid as she stood over Hanna. After another moment of silence she slapped him again. "Why don't you _get it_!? 'Lives aren't meant to be ruined!?' Tell that to my parents, you moron! Tell that to my Daddy, he's the one who kept those vampires around! Tell that to my Mommy, she's the one who told him to _let them live_!" She shrieked. Again she fell into silence for a moment, panting, glaring down at Hanna. In that instant it didn't seem like she was really looking at him, her eyes expression lost. She then shook her head.  
  
" _Morsus_!" She snapped before continuing to speak, her voice now low, shaking with rage. "If my mother hadn't made the mistake of letting those damn vampires live, I wouldn't have had to see them die! Don't you get it? She made the same damned mistakes you did and look at where it got them! If she'd listened to my Daddy this wouldn't have happened, if you'd all just _listen_ we wouldn't have any more kids like me."  
  
Hanna couldn't process the words while his body seared with pain, but the painful reality hit him. He watched her, blue eyes wider than they had been for a few days.   
  
"Oh, wow, _jeez_ , you shoulda told me that before I went around talking bad about your parents." He winced, looking sheepish, but with no grin on his face. He glanced at the floor for a moment, then back at Lenore, brow raised. "But you're seriously going to go on a killing spree to wipe out _every_ supernatural creature, just 'cause you managed to have a really bad experience with a few of them? That's like wiping out the human race 'cause you had a bad experience with a murder or-or a con artist."  
  
The dark-haired girl gave a laugh at this, high and terrible and somewhat bitter. "Yes, excuse me for not mentioning the tiny detail of my parents murder, Mr. Cross. But no, it's not the same," She shook her head violently, hands clenching into fists at her sides. "Don't you get it? They aren't _like_ the human race, Mr. Cross. Maybe you're confused, but Daddy taught me the truth. They're monsters. They're all monsters. We can work with them, but they aren't an equal race. They kill people like my parents, they hurt people like you... Mr. Cross, they are like _animals_." Her pale hands reached out to grab Hanna's wrists, her golden eyes clearly not entirely sane as she snapped in his face.  
  
"Why can't you just understand that? They're just animals, Mr. Cross, animals that _kill_ people. I have to stop them, _we_ have to stop them, why don't you see that!? They're just animals, my daddy said they were animals, I have to stop them for him, _WHY DON'T YOU SEE THAT_!?"  
  
"Because they're not animals." Hanna took a deep breath and somehow managed to pull off a calm facade. He'd faced down worse than a seriously deranged ten year old before.   
  
"Listen, I'm not saying your dad was wrong - I'm just saying whomever taught your dad was wrong. People used to say a lot of things were less than human when they weren't, like, ya know, black people, natives, other races of white people. Doesn't mean they are. And yeah, okay, a lot of supernatural beings kill people. But they aren't the only ones. Cats can kill people, dogs can kill people, squirrels can at least tear your face apart." Hanna winced at the memory. "Bears kill people, too. Bears can be  freaking scary when they're all standing on their hind legs and foaming at the mouth and pissed to all hell." Hanna took a moment to get the image of a rabid, giant, high-on-magic panda out of his head. That wasn't a fun case to deal with. Not in the least. Right up there with the squirrels in the department store ceiling.   
  
"But a ranger-guy doesn't tell you to shoot a bear if you see it 'cause they're killers, they say stay away from them. Show them a little respect. It's the same with everyone, human, inhuman, slightly confused or otherwise. Vampires need that, too. Treat 'um like they've got some humanity and they'll be civil. You know?" Hanna grinned, hoping that for once, Lenore would get what he was talking about.   
  
Those yellow eyes stared at him for a moment, unblinking. Then her head dropped, dark-hair obscuring her face from view even as her fists remained fast around Hanna's wrists. "Treat them like they have some humanity? Ahaha...ha..." She shook her head as she began to giggle, shoulders shaking as it grew louder and louder. Finally it became a hair-raising cackle as she threw back her head and just laughed, her insane laughter booming through the study. She then came to a sudden stop, her nails digging into Hanna's wrists. A pulse of magic energy passed from her to the chair in her obvious rage, causing the thing to shudder violently. "Why don't you get it, Mr. Cross? They _have_ no humanity, that's the problem here! They're not like other animals, they're fully capable of... of... you.... _AUUUUUUGH!_ "  
  
Apparently, any semblance of a logical argument was gone. She was just in a rage now, the entire room shuddering and reacting to her torrent of emotion. "WHY DON'T YOU GET IT? YOU'RE WRONG, YOU'RE WRONG, YOU'RE ALL WRONG! Daddy was the only one right, I'm just trying to do what he told me, I'm trying to be good,   _WHY DON'T YOU SEE THAT_!? They're just _animals_ Mr. Cross, that's all they are!"  
  
In the torrent of rage, Lenore hadn't noticed that the door had clicked open. This was what Hanna was currently watching, as the vampire behind the door looked on in near horror. Larden had heard the shouting and had come to make sure that everyone was okay. What he faced was certainly not okay.   
  
It wasn't the screaming that left him in utter shock. It was the fact that after everything, after the promises and the days of cleaning up blood off the floor because Hanna had 'hurt himself' and the tea and assurances that no one would get hurt, he could come in here and find that Hanna - whom he hadn't actually seen since the original kidnapping - was busted to all hell, bleeding, and most certainly not alright. It was the fact that Lenore had _lied_ to him. Fed him empty promises and led him on like some sick puppy.   
  
So he stood in the door in utter shock, because it seemed that life, for the past few days, had been a lie.   
  
Upon noticing Hanna didn't seem to be looking at her, Lenore let out a snarl. "What are you looking at!? Look at me when I'm talking to you, you _moron_ , I'm trying to---" It was then that it finally clicked. She paused, then glanced back over her shoulder, eyes widening from behind strands of hair that had fallen loose during her rant. "L-Larden?" She sputtered. Her small hands flew from Hanna's wrists as if she'd been burned and she spun to face the vampire, standing as if by blocking Hanna as much as possible, she could maybe cover it all up.  
  
"H-hi, Larden. Er... what seems to be the problem?" She flashed that same innocent grin, as if she could fix everything simply by being cute. It had worked before when she'd been four and he'd caught her in all sorts of trouble, surely this couldn't be any worse, right?  
  
Except she'd never really lied, not before now.  
  
"Lenore, what..." Larden found trying to find the right words was hard. Even in his native tongue, he couldn't find the right words. "What is... You said no one would get hurt."  
  
"Er... _yes_ , I did say that," Lenore said slowly, putting her hands behind her back as his gaze went to the floor. After a few moments she let out a frustrated breath and looked to Larden with a scowl. "Look, Larden, plans change. I didn't _want_ to hurt him, it's his own fault. What did you _think_ was going to happen if he didn't cooperate? This is how my Daddy did things," She shrugged. "It'll be okay in the end. It'll be fine once he listens." She sounded sure enough, but there was a slight shakiness to her voice.  
  
Larden frowned. "Lenore, you told me that... that you were going to talk to him, not hurt him! You-you know why I made you promise me you would not hurt anyone, Lenore? Why... why I have tried to keep you less like your father?" He took a step into the room and let the door snap shut behind him. "Because your father's methods... were not right. They... they do more harm that good."  
  
Lenore's scowl deepened. "What are you talking about? I thought the whole promise thing was just because you can't handle violence?" She growled, no shakiness in her voice now. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Who are you to question my Daddy's methods? You have no right to say that! How can you say he wasn't right? He always told me he was, he always got results... you said you're trying to keep me from being like him? Maybe I _want_ to be like him, have you considered that!?"  
  
"I do not question, Lenore... I know. Ja, he got results. From... making them fear pain too much to challenge him. You think... think he would _tell_ you he was _wrong_?" Larden didn't care to look at Hanna, look at what Lenore had done to him. Too much blood, too much like her father, just too much. " _Ihr vater_ was no man to look up to."  
  
The dark-haired girl's eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?" She hissed, her voice becoming dangerously low. "Who are you to say things like that about my Daddy? You know the things he did. He was a great man... he ran a great business... Mommy loved him... how _dare_ you say he wasn't a man to look up to?"  
  
"Ja, I know. I _bezeugt_... I saw first hand... I _felt_ first hand what it was like to wrong him, Lenore. I know that.... that kind of pain... should not be wished on no man." Larden shifted a step closer. "You remember, ja? The-the bruises. The scrapes, the burns. The... the lies I fed you _und ihr mutter_... because it would cost more than bruises to tell you the truth."  
  
"What are you..." Lenore trailed off, her eyes widening as it finally clicked. She began to shake her head. "...No. No, that can't be right. Y-you said you were clumsy... you told Mommy and me that you fell down the stairs... you wouldn't... he _wouldn't_ have done that, Larden. H-he said you were different, he'd never... no, no, _no_! Y-you're lying, you have to be lying!"  
  
Larden was about to put his hand on her shoulder and comfort her, but paused at her final words. He stood, slightly frozen. "You... really think I would... _lie_ to you?" He asked, voice almost seething with pain. Hanna inched his chair back slightly, trying to free his hands from their bonds without tearing them off so that if shit went down, he could help fix it. Because, he could tell from the look in Larden's eyes, shit was going to go down.   
  
"You're lying." Lenore's voice was hard now, even as her entire body shuddered. She shook her head violently again. "You're lying, you _have_ to be lying! Daddy would never have done that, he was right, he was _always_ right! _LIAR_!" After screaming this out she stood in silence for a moment, simply shaking, her fists clenched so tightly her nails were digging into her palms. "You... you must be just like the rest of them if you're saying this."  
  
In that second, the hand Larden had out to comfort Lenore reached out and slapped her. "Lenore, you _know me_ better than that!" Something inside Larden wasn't taking Lenore for the cute ten year old he really knew she was. He, at that moment, could only see her as her father, violent and cruel and heartless and as much as he loved her, the only way to bring her back from that was to hurt her.   
  
Golden eyes widened in shock, and Lenore's hand shot up to clutch at her cheek. She stood in silence for a moment, seemingly unable to comprehend the idea that Larden, her Larden, had just _slapped_ her. "You..." She seemed to waver a bit, and for an instant she was a little girl again and she was lost and scared and hurt by the whole situation. Then her eyes narrowed and that expression was gone, replaced by sheer rage and something cold and heartless and nothing like the child she was supposed to be. The air was wavering, growing impossibly thick and tense with the magic that was building with her emotions.   
  
"How _dare_ you!?" Lenore spat as she scowled up at her friend. "I _thought_ I knew you better than that, but evidentially I don't! How dare you slap me!? I am your _master_ Larden, you have absolutely no right to speak to me like that! If Daddy were here... he... you... auuugh!"  
  
Larden supposed the word master was what really set him on edge. The way she said it, like he was no more to her than a slave and the fact that really, for all he did for her and all she asked he didn't _feel_ much more than a slave, and the fact that it took him this long to really come to terms with it - all of that made his emotions rise to a boiling point inside of him.   
  
The wolf inside him was howling for blood. Instead, he slapped her again, managing to keep the rage out of his hands because he really didn't want to _hurt_ her, just stop her. "Who are you and what have you done with Lenore?"   
  
The second slap proved to be the trigger. Tears welled up in her eyes, but whether they were from pain or anger wasn't entirely clear. Either way, the air was sparking around the ten-year old, and she was clearly livid. "Who am _I_?" She snarled. "I _am_ Lenore! I am my father's daughter, I am the heir of the Cruentus family, I am your master and you have _no right_ to do this to me!" She stomped her foot, her face fixed in a terrible, monstrous snarl.  Again her voice was rising in tone and pitch, growing hurried and more emotional the more she spoke. "Why don't you get it? I'm just trying to avenge him, why don't you get that!? I'm just trying to follow in his footsteps, and if you don't understand that, if you're choosing to speak against the one who taught me _everything_... then you are no better than the ones who killed him!"  
  
"Get out!" She was screaming now. "Just get out! You don't belong here, I don't need you! I don't need anyone! If I'm the only one who understands, then I don't care! I'll do this on my own! You've made it clear you're no different than the rest of them, so _GET OUT_!" With those last words she reached out and shoved the vampire. Normally, this wouldn't have done anything, given her stature and the fact that Larden was considerably taller and stronger.  
  
But normally her magic was under control.  
  
And since this was no where near the normal circumstances, the shove sent Larden flying into the door. Well, into isn't exactly the word. _Through_ is probably a better descriptor. The wood splintered and cracked and rained down in giant chunks over Larden and the rest of the room.   
  
Hanna, meanwhile, had managed to delicately peel his arm from the chair - not without damage to his skin, of course - and was rooting around in his pockets, behind him in the chair, anywhere Lenore might've put his marker. He was going to need it.  
  
The instant she realized what she'd done, Lenore's eyes widened in shock. The energy in the room dissipated in an instant and she stood there, gaping at the splintered remains of the door. "Larden... Larden!" She called out as she rushed over to him, apparently completely forgetting Hanna was there in her concern. "Oh God are you okay!? Larden!?"  
  
Larden pushed pieces of the rubble aside, now more bruised and battered than previous and covered in splinters but otherwise none the worse for wear. Except for the look in his eyes - disappointment, hurt, emotional pain that one can't just get from a door falling on them.   
  
"Lenore, stop this now. Let him go." Larden's voice was low and attempting to take command of the situation. Hanna was watching them, marker clutched in his fist, ready but completely at a loss as to what he really could do.   
  
The dark-haired girl gaped down at him in silence for a moment. It was strange. She'd seen Larden beaten up before, he'd been so much worse than this so many times... but he'd never looked at her like that, and it had never been her fault.  But in spite of this, she already knew what her answer would be. A part of her wanted so badly to listen, to apologize, to somehow make this all right... but she couldn't. To apologize would be to admit she was wrong, to admit her father was wrong, to abandon everything she'd worked for, to abandon ten years worth of teachings and memories... and she couldn't do it.  
  
So she shook her head, biting her lip. "I... I _can't_ , Larden. I can't."  
  
"Let him go or I'm... I'm going to have to do what I should have done before and stop you myself." Larden shifted unsteadily to his feet and leaned on the bare threshold.   
  
Lenore shook her head again, tears coming to her eyes. "I can't. You _know_ I can't!" She cried out. She stood there for a moment, simply shaking, eyes to the ground. When she looked to Larden again her eyes were hard, "You said you didn't want me to become like him. I'm... I'm sorry Larden. But I can't stop now, and you can't stop me. I... I promised him I would not back down. I promised him... and I am my father's daughter, after all." She managed to keep her expression blank, but her voice cracked at the end, betraying her obvious turmoil.  
  
Larden frowned. Instead of answering, he took a few stumbling steps toward's Hanna and Hanna's chair, obviously attempting to aid his escape, even if only as a human shield. Hanna took this as a general cue to start drawing a complicated rune on his leg that would hopefully free him without tearing off his skin again.   
  
This time Lenore noticed. She shook her head violently, hands clenching into fists. "Get out!" She shouted. Once again a wave of energy shot through the room, though this time it was a bit weaker. "Larden, if you don't back off _right now_ , I'm considering you an enemy!" She shouted. She then seemed to realize just what it was that Larden was looking at and she looked back to Hanna, eyes narrowing dangerously. " _Morsus_!"  
  
Larden pulled himself from the rubble, watching Hanna arch with pain in his chair, hand still managing to hold onto the marker, and when the pain passed, the paranormal investigator continued where he left off, beads of sweat running down his face, pink with blood.   
  
"Lenore, please." Larden's voice was a whisper from the threshold.   
  
Golden eyes seemed to flare with rage as Lenore looked to Larden again. "Stop talking to me like that and _get out_ , Larden!" She cried before rounding on Hanna again. The sound of Larden whispering proved to affect her more than she'd thought it would... so she just channeled that rage into facing Hanna. "And what do you think you're doing, Mr. Cross?" She hissed as she held out one hand, stalking toward the redhead. " _Lumen_!" The charge shooting from her fingertips was a full on bolt of lighting now, glowing and white hot to even look at. Thankfully, it missed, overshooting the redhead by centimeters and blasting a hole through the wall. "Damnit..." She was regretting not memorizing more from her book, the standard spell would have to do. " _Morsus_!"  
  
As her spell worked, Lenore took the last few seconds to rush over to Hanna and grab for the marker.  
  
Hanna felt the marker slip from his fingers but the pain shut off all thinking because it was white hot, searing, fueled by hate and anger and rage and it left Hanna in a state where he was as he was before, despondent and so sore all over that shifting hurt more than being painfully still. He did manage to glance up at Larden, blood dripping into his eyes and making him blink from the near miss from the lightening. Larden was standing stock still in the doorway, a pleading look on his face.   
  
Lenore stood panting for a moment, then tossed the marker aside. "My my, Mr. Cross. That was awfully rude... don't you know better than to try to escape when the adults are talking?" She murmured, her eye twitching. She then glanced back to Larden, eyes narrowing. "Well, what are you waiting for? This is what you hated, isn't it? Go on. Go." After another moment of silence she let out a snarl and took a step toward Larden. " _Morsus_!"  
  
Larden opened his mouth to scream, but the shock of hitting the floor startled it out of him and the pain didn't let him think to cry out again. Once it subsided, he scrambled to his feet and out of the house, never mind the fact that he was bleeding from the wood and the splinters and everything else. He ran, because there was nothing else he could do himself.   
  
Hanna let his hand brush the half finished rune on his legs and he smiled at the fucked up escape attempt. At least some things never changed.   
  
The dark-haired girl watched Larden run, panting heavily. After a few moments of silence she let out an ear-splitting shriek, the entire house seeming to shudder with her voice. A nearby vase shattered instantly, bookshelves that were already in disarray collapsed with a series of terrible crashes. She screamed a few more times, each one less volatile, until finally her last scream dissipated into a low wail. Lenore then collapsed to her knees in the rubble, shuddering. Larden was gone. Larden was gone, he wasn't helping her anymore.  
  
Lenore hugged her pale arms to her chest, quite suddenly feeling quite aware of just how ridiculously huge the mansion was. It had seemed impossibly large in her childhood, like a world in itself, and now without Larden that feeling was quite suddenly there again. She was alone, impossibly, crushingly alone...   
  
She let out a quiet sob as the realization hit her, the sound nearly swallowed in the pattering of the rain outside.  
  
"Hey, _heyyyyy_ now, c'mon, don't cry." Hanna's tone was surprisingly comforting. There was something about Lenore crying that reminded him he was facing a child and his warm heart reached out to her where his hands could not. "He'll come back. If he's any kinda friend he'll come back eventually."  
  
The girl seemed to not hear him, lost in her thoughts. She shook her head violently. "No... no... he's not... _no_..." Her voice cracked as her grip tightened, fingernails digging painfully into her pale skin of her upper arms. Hanna said Larden would come back, but she knew better. She'd never hurt Larden before, not like this. And she hadn't wanted to hurt him, she really hadn't. But he'd left her with no choice and she'd had to, he'd said things about her father, she had to...  
  
A small part of her could acknowledge something about this was not entirely right. The part that had been so determined to teach Larden English and that had been so very concerned with not scaring everyone off at school years ago pointed out that really Larden's comments made some sense, and really when she thought about it the vampire had never lied to her before. He'd never lied, and really it all made sense... but it could not make sense because that would mean her _father_ had lied and he'd never lied either and if he lied that ruined everything and she just couldn't accept it. She just couldn't accept it, and the world seemed to be falling around her and she didn't know what to do.  
  
It had to be a lie. What Larden said had to be a lie.  
  
Lenore took a deep breath, seemingly trying to collect herself. The sobs continued for another moment... and then they began to transfer into laughter. She threw back her head and laughed, tears still streaming down her cheeks, her booming cackle echoing through the shattered room.  
  
Well, she had promised. There was no turning back now.  
  
Hanna watched her, now reminded why he'd forgotten that she was ten in the first place in the fact that he was still bleeding all down his face and she was cackling madly.   
  
Well, he at least hoped that it was over for today.  
  
The dark-haired girl fell silent and suddenly stood, swaying violently on her feet. She then turned toward Hanna, her expression a wide, but calm smile. "He'll come back? You'd like that, wouldn't you Mr. Cross? After all, this is your fault," She murmured as she began to slowly make her way toward the redhead. "Lar-Lar wouldn't have left had you listened to me. If you'd just listened, I wouldn't have had to hurt you, and then he wouldn't had left. This is all your fault. You must feel very guilty."  
  
"Woah-hey!" Hanna protested. "Hey now, for once this isn't my fault!"  
  
Lenore let out a sharp, hair-raising cackle. "Oh, but it _is_ Mr. Cross. Don't you get it?" Her hands came down to grab Hanna's wrists again, her grip vice-like as she got directly in his face, her golden eyes wild. "This is your fault! It's all your fault, he wouldn't have left if you had just listened! I wouldn't have had to hurt you if you'd just listened, I wouldn't have to hurt you if you just listened! Everything would have been fine if you. Had just. _LISTENED_!" Again came the violent shake of the chair, the air seeming to shudder with yet another building charge.  
  
"I did listen, I'm just not a killer!" Hanna set his shoulders against the back of the chair and felt it rattle his body to the core.  
  
Again came the laughter. "We'll see, we'll see Mr. Cross..." Her grip loosened, her head dropped and for a moment she stood there, simply breathing and giggling. "You just don't understand yet, that's all... but it's okay. It's okay. It's okay. My Daddy didn't lie... I will make you understand." As she spoke, the shadows in the room seemed to lengthen, extending outward and beginning to crawl up her arms like snakes of ink, moving in a strange rhythm with the girl's whispered breaths.  
  
Hanna tensed. He'd seen weird shit before but this was most certainly new.   
  
That giggling came again as the darkness extended through her entire being, swallowed up her neck, connected with the black markings on her cheeks, plunged the room into impossible shadow "You don't seem to understand just what it is those creatures you defend can do... I will make you understand. It's going to be okay, Mr. Cross." The darkness was stifling now, impossible, and all that could be seen was the golden, maniac gleam of Lenore's eyes as she brought up her blackened hand. "It'll be okay, it'll be okay, it'll be okay..." She whispered as she spoke the words,  before closing her own eyes and covering Hanna's blue ones.  
  
" _Atrum Sominium_."  
  
And then all was dark.


	9. Chapter 9

Hanna at first felt like he was floating. He realized that he was actually just free from his chair in the impossible darkness. The darkness without a floor, without a ceiling, without walls; without and up or a down either. His feet were against something solid and that's all he really knew. That and Lenore was no longer in front of him. 

He put his guard up. Something wasn't right.

"Hanna..."

The word was practically a whisper, as if it were the wind speaking as a frigid breeze blew past him. It was hair-raising, like something murmured from a grave... but in a way that was accurate, considering how strangely familiar the voice seemed.

Hanna turned in what seemed like the direction of the voice. He dared to let the voice tug at the strings of his heart and sound familiar and right and make him hope in a world that was so dark. 

"Columbus?" Hanna asked the dark, voice hushed with startled hope, and he wondered if the dark would reply back.

"Hanna!" The voice did indeed call back, this time from a different direction. However, upon further inspection there was now a soft orange glow coming from behind Hanna, piercing the darkness and creating a warmth that had been sorely missing for several days now.

Hanna spun around. He didn't let his feet finish their rotation before he was off at a run towards the comforting orange glow, ready to wrap his arms around his friend and revel in the moment of sheer utter joy that the zombie was okay; revel in the fact that he was here and life was so much better now.

Except the expected hug never happened, because before Hanna could reach the zombie in question a gloved hand shot out to sock him quite squarely in the stomach.

"Oh man, Meriwether, hahaha, I completely forgot your reaction to people running screaming through the dark was to punch them in the stomach." He laughed good and long and hard and it felt so amazing just to be able to laugh at something so stupid again. "God, I've missed you. You probably had like, the department store and everyone turning up at the door looking for me, haven't you?" He grinned sheepishly at that. "Sorry about that."

Those orange eyes glared down at him, narrowed and glazed. Gloved fingers twitched as for a moment the zombie just stared at him wordlessly. Then came the kick, a bright orange sneaker shooting out to connect with Hanna's stomach with a terrifying amount of strength.

Hanna curled inward at the blow, mind reeling for a moment before he rolled back onto his back. "Han Solo, youuuu feeling okay?" He asked.

Still those orange eyes glared down at him, like small pinpoints of flame in the dark. "You... _you_..." The zombie's words came out stuttered and guttural, almost as if they were being choked out of the dead throat that uttered them. The voice still had that same rumble it always had, but what once had seemed reassuring and gentle now seemed harsh and dead. Again came another kick. "That's not my name... you never found my _name_ , Hanna..."

Hanna watched him and something shot through every inch of his skin that he could only chock up as instinctual fear but no, that couldn't be, this was his friend, his zombie, he couldn't be scared. But then he looked right at those eyes, that stance, heard that voice and shivered because maybe this wasn't his zombie, even though it was. 

"Hey, you know I've been trying. Let me find a door out and we can totally go get pizza and I can like, try as many names as I can! And we can get those DVDs from the apartment and go over to Conrad's and watch them before I have to take them back - speaking of, you know if we have money for late fees around anywhere because I used my last quarters at the laundromat..."

The redhead's rambling were doing little to placate the undead man. He took a shuffling step forward, then knelt down, and for an instant one could believe that perhaps this had all been some sort of mistake and the undead man was doing this out of concern. But then a gloved hand shot out and grabbed Hanna's collar, pulling him up so he was face to face with those terrifying eyes.

"You were supposed to give me a name! A _life_! This isn't a life!" The zombie snarled, dull gray teeth seeming to gleam in the dark. "Following a shell of a boy around is not a life! Give me yours!" Those hands were grasping at Hanna now, grabbing at his shoulders and pushing. Strength that normally was used to keep him safe was now doing the opposite, trying to tear him apart, to rip through pale skin and get at the flesh beneath.

And Hanna knew that the feeling was most certainly fear and that it was fear within reason because something wasn't right anymore and this wasn't the zombie he knew and there was a better time to try and help him right now Hanna needed to get the fuck out of there because the strong hands on his shoulders were _not_ friendly. 

So Hanna wriggled and squirmed and slipped like a wet fish from the zombie's grip and he fled a few steps, just out of strike range but not far away, feet still twitchy and ready to run for it. "Okayyy, so you're not feeling okay." H evaluated. "Maybe you're possessed? Is that Vadar in there?" He waved a hand just out of reach but still in the zombie's face, concern outweighing fear because he'd rather something be horribly wrong with his friend than his friend have turned on him because that left him so very much alone in the dark and cold and unfamiliar world he was lost in and he wasn't letting that happen if he could help it.

The zombie let out a growl as Hanna evaded his grasp. His answer to Hanna's question came in the form of an animalistic, hair-raising snarl as he took another stumbling step. One long arm swiped out in an attempt to catch the redhead, bloodlust in the creature's eyes, eyes that were decidedly _there_ even if they weren't those of Hanna's friend.

Hanna jumped out of the way, hands searching for a marker. Nothing. A chill ran down his spine. Well, at least his friend might not be in there and at least he didn't have a crowbar this time so they were fairly similarly armed, even if Hanna couldn't bust a move and kick the invader out of the Zombie's head. So he did the next best thing and something he was terribly good at. He talked. 

"C'mon, Linguini, I know you're in there. You can fight it! C'mon, I'm your friend, we're _besties for life_ , you know you wouldn't hurt me, right?"

Again came the fists lashing out for him, followed by that animalistic snarl. Hanna's words clearly weren't reaching the zombie at all, nor were they doing anything to deter his advance.

There was a snort from somewhere within the darkness. "Wow, he _really_ was holding back some issues with you, wasn't he?" Another familiar voice drawled, this one with a slight accent. "I can't say I blame him, you have a pretty spectacular track record for being a fuck up."

Hanna dodged and spun, searching out the voice. "Hey, Conrad!" The voice was music to his ears. "You know why he's all like this?"

Red pinpoints of light gazed down at Hanna from a few feet behind him, a scowl on his face. "How the fuck would I know? He probably just got fed up with you, who can blame him?" The vampire grumbled as he gestured to the zombie, whom had come to a stop and was watching the two curiously. Conrad cocked his head to the side as he glared down at Hanna. "I mean, seriously... you fucked my life up, I wouldn't be surprised if you fucked up his too."

Another chill of fear ran down Hanna's back. He suppressed it, fists tightening. "C'mon, Connie, I said I was sorry, and you got to punch me in the face for it, and-and now you can see the city at night all the time!"

Conrad let out a bitter laugh. "Yeah, too bad I had to trade never going out in the sun again to do it! Face it, asshole, you got me _killed_. " His tone became a snarl as he loomed over the redhead, fingers twitching at his sides. "But you know... you're right, there is one little perk..." At these words a pale hand suddenly shot out, grabbing the front of Hanna's shirt and lifting him up with surprising strength so they were face to face. Up close, these red eyes were animalistic, feral, and _hungry_.

"I won't have any trouble tearing you apart."

Hanna tensed and squirmed. This situation was not shaping up to be any good. The zombie, his best friend, was itching to tear him to shreds, and now Conrad was figuratively and literally after his blood. 

"Woah, woah, woah, Conrad, don't you think that's-that's a tad bit in the extreme, tearing me apart?" He grinned, wriggling in Conrad's grasp.

The vampire seemed to consider this for a moment, backing away. "Maybe you're right. After all, I'm only after your blood..." He said slowly. Then his mouth twisted into a fanged grin as his grip tightened on on Hanna's shirt. "Consider yourself special, then!" He snarled as he moved in to bite.

Hanna did the only thing he could: he wriggled and squirmed and kicked out at Conrad, throwing what he could claim as weight around in order to free himself or jostle his friend or something, though he wasn't aiming to HURT Conrad, that would be cruel and Conrad was his friend and he couldn't do that to him no matter how close that single fang was getting to Hanna's neck. He couldn't hurt either of them because they were his friends and his family and hurting them would mean he'd be alone and he knew better than to hurt when bad things were going on because bad things can be fixed, and if not fixed at least he can smack a dinosaur band-aid on them and call them better for at least a while. So he thrashed and he kicked and he thought he felt contact at some point but he really didn't know because his eyes were closed and hey, at least he tried before he died and Worth wouldn't have to deal with him anymore and really, fuck that, that was bullshit, Hanna knew Worth cared a little. Like Worth cared for his cat, Cat. Hanna briefly mused that he would need to tell Cat off for dying on Worth if Conrad killed him.

Fortunately for Hanna, he did indeed manage to connect. Conrad let out a snarl of surprise and pain as he dropped Hanna, stumbling back and clutching at his leg. As he stumbled, his skin began to fizz and pop, ebbing away to reveal twisted, milky white bone as fingertips lengthened into claws. The vampire let out a growl as he fixed his gaze on Hanna, grinning with lengthening fangs. "Alright, fair enough. You can start running now," He hissed out. "You're a friend, after all. I can give you a head start."

Behind Hanna. the zombie let out a similar growl, gloved fingers grasping for him again, narrowly missing his brightly colored shirt. He was clearly still just as bloodthirsty as Conrad was. In the distance, a wolf howled, and if one squinted through the darkness one could spot a pair of reflective green eyes and a wide, shark-like grin.

And Hanna fled. He didn't quite know where he was fleeing to, since there was no destination amid the darkness, but he ran. He ran as far and as fast as his legs could carry him because no matter how unreal and untrue this seemed - how untrue he hoped it was - he didn't want to risk it being real and him dying like this. 

It was one thing to die while on a mission against a monster or a ghost or a demon or a vampire or any number of terrifying deadly things and maybe helping someone in the end of it all. That was perfectly okay with Hanna. He figured that's how he'd die in the long run because he knew he lived a dangerous life and old age was a hope and a dream away. He'd faced death more than once and he was only in his twenties. 

It was another thing to die like this. To die, running through the darkness that wasn't so much lack of reflected light as thick darkness, darkness that ate what light came at him and starved the air of anything and everything. Darkness the likes of which exist in closets, under beds, and in the nightmares of children of every age. The darkness in the trees at night where the wild things lurk with evil eyes and snapping jaws ready to tear at sleeping campers. Darkness that was thick with fear, thick as fear, because it was fear. The fear bubbling in a child's chest as they rounded a dark corner, posing as the darkness the world knows all too well.

To die, running through fear incarnate, being chased by the few friends he had. Being chased by people he loved and trusted and told secrets to in the dead of night, being chased by the lives he thought he helped and the people who held his life, his fragile life, in their palms because he trusted them that much. People he shared with because he thought they were people he could count on, people that had proven that many times previous. 

Being chased by family. Not that, even. Being hunted. Hunted like a fox against a hoard of hounds, fear pounding through his veins because he knew they could smell him a mile away and he didn't have anywhere to hide in the dark - the irony of not being able to hide in the dark didn't pass over Hanna and he managed a chuckle before he nearly tripped and remembered why he was working his legs to the bone - and that didn't really matter, they'd find him anyway and all he could see in his future was blood if he stopped. So like a fox, all red hair in a dark world, he let his legs carry him as fast as he could away from the danger and into the fear because the all that stretched before him was barren and unknown, but it was better than the certainty of death via the only people Hanna could really count as any sort of family anymore behind.

\---

 

It had been three days.

Worth scowled at the wall, long greasy fingers drumming on the countertop. It had been three days, not that he was counting. Three days since Conrad and the zombie had come bursting into his apartment, three days since he'd called up Lamont and sent out the search. Three days and dozens of reports that still stung to hear in spite of his attempts to dull it all with alcohol. Three days, a lack of patients that he was going to bet had something to do with Lamont, and fuck that bastard for keeping his patients away, he could work fine while inebriated, thanks. He would have appreciated the distraction, but there was none, and it wasn't like he cared or anything but he just didn't have much else to do.

The doctor let out a smoke-filled growl as he leaned against his desk, glaring at the grime-coated wall through the haze of a hangover. "Bastard," He muttered, though he wasn't entirely sure who he was even addressing. With that thought in mind he reached out for the bottle. He'd given it enough time off, he was starting to feel his fingers again.

There was a tiny knock at the Doctor's door. Two taps - too loud to be anything in the walls, but so soft they could have been anything butting against the door. But then they came again, and the rhythm was too, well, rhythmic to be anything but human. Or, sentient, at least.

Worth blinked, glancing up from the bottle to the door. For an instant he wondered if he was just hearing things, but the instant he tried to settle down they came again. The blond let out a frustrated growl as he leaned back in his chair, snatching the bottle from his desk. "What d'ya want!?" He snapped, calling to be heard over the door. "Can't ya see I'm fuckin' closed!?"

"It is emergency!" The voice from behind the door was very quiet. " _Please, verlassen Sie mich wie das nicht, das ist wichtig_ , it is about your friend, Hanna!"

Brows furrowed as the blond glared at the door. "German? The fuck?" He mumbled to himself as he kicked his chair from the desk and stood, coat swishing behind him. "Alright bastard," He growled as he pulled the door open with more force than necessary. "What's the big...." He trailed off as he blinked at the person standing at his doorstep. "...Who the hell are _you_? And the fuck is with your ears? What, are you some forgotten Lord of t' Rings extra or somethin'!?"

The wayward German vampire at the door looked a little put off. The fact that his ears were pointy really should have been the least of any doctor's worries, considering the bruises - some old, some worryingly new - and the near horizontal tilt of his back. "I am Larden. I work... worked with Lenore, the girl who took your friend." He was leaning heavily on the doorframe. " _Gott, ich werde so verhungern lassen..._ " The German was barely a murmured as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the arm that braced him.

Worth's eyebrows rose at this, his teeth grinding down on his still burning cigarette. "That so?" He asked as he folded his arms before him, giving the vampire a once over. "What brings ya here then? Shouldn't ya be assisting your little brat in t' art of maulin' innocent gingers?" He inquired as he cocked his head to the side, rocking back on his heels. Was this guy looking for a fight?

"I am here... to help you. Help get him back." Larden tried to smile and his mouth managed a twitch in the upward direction. "I, uh, do-you-happen-to-have-any-blood-on-you-sir?" Larden spoke almost too quickly to catch. He was slightly embarrassed, but really, walking around looking like a boxing ring reject was bad enough to beg a little.

The doctor gave a scowl as he caught the quick words. "You fuckin' serious? Ya tell me you were involved with the brat's kidnapping, and now you're asking for Goddamn handouts? Why t' hell should I?" He demanded, making a point of blocking the door.

"Because I believe you would rather not have my lying in your doorway." Larden chuckled with a wince. Lenore did a hell of a number on him, and that door didn't help either. He thought he was friends with that door. Okay, that's it, he needed blood, he was going insane.

Worth glared at him for another moment, then let out a sigh. "Get the fuck in here," He growled as spun on his heel and stalked toward the fridge where he kept the blood. "I still dun see why the hell I should trust you. How d' I know you ain't gonna tear me a new asshole once I give you this?" He grumbled even as he dug through the fridge.

Larden looked panicked at the idea. He closed the door softly and gulped. "Because... I believe I am... more scared of you than you are of me?"

He received a smirk for this, as it apparently was the best answer Worth had heard in a awhile. "Damn straight you'd better be scared of me, asshole," He said as he stood, kicking the refrigerator door shut with his foot. There was then a blur of red as several cool bags of blood were tossed in Larden's face. "There ya go, drink up. And no, I'm not fucking warming it up for you. For all I know tha' little bitch sent you to spy on me or something."

Larden tucked into the blood, too hungry to care. "I would not spy for her for anything at the moment." Larden nodded once he finished. "She, ah, threw me out because I stood up to her. Heh."

The blond frowned as he flopped down into his seat again, propping his feet up on his desk and putting the grimy bottoms of his shoes on display. "That so? Huh. I was startin' t' wonder if a lack of balls was just a chronic vampire thing. What'da know, I was wrong," He snorted as he dug through his tenth pack of cigarettes that day. The one he currently had in his mouth was getting low.

"So..." He trailed off as he stuck the new cigarette into his mouth and lit it, casting his dark eyes over Larden. "Is dressin' like a fag also just a vampire thing or somethin'? Seriously, what is with you people and gayass sweater vests? Why dun' you add a fuckin' ascot while you're at it, faggot?"

Larden nearly snorted the blood. "It is _not_ a sweater vest, it is a vest and it was _meinne mutter's_ and I lost my ascot years ago. I apologize that I was born in the 1700s and do not like modern clothes. The are thin and let in too much sunlight."

Worth snorted. "Is the girly ponytail thing somethin' left over from t' age of the fucking dinosaurs as well? Just curious. You n' Fagula should trade hair tips, 'm sure he'd love t' know how you got the sleek, silky shine." He drawled as he rocked back in his chair. A part of him did really want to know where Hanna was, but on the other hand he hadn't had someone to properly heckle in a few days. This made for good stress relief.

Larden bent a little where he sat. "Who is... Fagula?" He asked. "And... I do not trust a ten year old with my hair."

The doctor's eyebrows rose and he grinned. "You mean you don't know about Fagula? Wasn't your little pride n' joy tellin' Hanna to off him earlier?" He chuckled as he flicked ash onto the carpet. "Surprised the little bastard didn't piss himself over that, really. Though maybe he did, I know how he likes to fudge those lovely, grimy lil' details."

Larden stood up and set the empty bags of blood on the desk, folded. "The-the vampire?" Larden blanched. "In the conversation of, I think that's the phrase, do you... do you know how I can contact them?" Larden asked, sheepish. 

He didn't see the door flying open until it literally hit him in the face.

"No," The zombie shook his head as he stepped inside, trench-coat swinging behind him. "We've checked numerous neighborhoods, but nothing seems familiar to me, and Conrad and Toni haven't been able to smell him at all." His tone was monotone as always, but there was a strange edge to it. When one added that to the disheveled appearance of his clothes, it was clear that the undead man had essentially been working non-stop and was clearly feeling rather frustrated. "We..." Here he paused as he caught sight of Larden and blinked.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, brow furrowing. His back had instantly tensed, as while he was aware he and Larden had a sort of understanding, he was also aware that the vampire was technically an enemy. He couldn't predict if he was going to be attacked or not.

Larden was currently holding his face where the door attacked him. "I come with peace! Er, in peace. In peace?" He didn't quite remember the phrase exactly. "I mean no harm. I am here to help."

"Fuck off!" Conrad snapped, having entered behind the zombie. "You fucking helped last time, helping that creepy ass little girl to try and kill us!" 

"She's not creepy, she needs help!" Larden's burst of emotion actually silenced Conrad's next sentence. "She needs help. Hanna... needs help. Please."

Contrary to Conrad's outburst, the zombie just stood in silence, simply meeting Larden's gaze. Gold met orange and the emotions he saw in those eyes were too familiar for his liking. After a moment, then zombie nodded. "What happened to them, and why does she need help?" He asked as he backed away, giving the vampire a bit of space. Those eyes were too familiar for him to deny.

Larden stared at his hands, clenched tightly in front of him. "Hanna... will not work with her. B-Because working means killing mythical creatures. And, like her father, she... the only way she knows to convince... is to hurt. She... she knows better than this. I know her. And... I told her. And she chased me out. She's... she's sick. She isn't the little girl I care for anymore."

Worth let out a snort in the background. "What tipped ya off, the part where she was kidnappin' the innocent undead or the part where she's apparently a sadistic bitch?"

"Worth," The zombie's tone carried a warning that, surprisingly enough, shut the doctor up. He then looked back to Larden. He couldn't say he was entirely surprised, judging from what he'd witnessed during his own capture there had clearly been tension already. When he added that to the fact that Lenore was clearly insane, well, he supposed it was only a matter of time before this happened.

"So you're helping us to try to help her, then," He concluded. He was doing his best to focus on the situation at hand and gloss over the mentions of Hanna being hurt. It upset him, and the last thing he needed was to not have a clear head in all this.

"And your friend." Larden nodded. Conrad crossed his arms and frowned deeply at the intruding vampire. He wanted to help Hanna, but like _hell_ if he was doing anything for that little girl.

"Since when did _you_ care about the kid?" Worth spoke up again, eyes narrowing as he folded his arms before him. "I dun' really see why the dead guy here's puttin' any trust in you. Let's face it, you were and still _might_ be an accomplice. Why should we buy a single fuckin' word ya say?"

"I trust him," The zombie said simply. Upon receiving Worth's glare, he shook his head. "We... had a discussion while I was captured. He wasn't entirely willing. If he says he wants to help Hanna and the girl, I believe him."

Dark eyes glanced between Larden and the undead man, surveying them. Finally after a moment he let out a smoke-filled sigh. Those eyes spoke of determination and a willingness to go to the ends of the earth for the ones they cared about, and who was he to deny that? He wasn't quite done yet, however.

"Alright, say you're honest about this whole heel-face-turn bullshit," The doctor said, taking his cigarette from his mouth and pointing it in the intruding vampire. "Why should we bother to help your little bundle of psychosis? You said she hurt Hanna, that's not exactly gettin' her brownie points."

Larden, first, spent a good long moment trying to figure out what a heel-face-turn was. Upon failing at that, he cleared his throat and considered the actual question. Yes, Lenore was a bitch to Hanna and that really didn't prove a convincing point. But as he thought, he remembered the things he'd heard through the door on occasion from Hanna about helping people. About how he wouldn't kill because he'd rather help. And Larden found a smile had worked its way to his face. 

"Because, and, ah, pardon me if I am mistaken, I go on dropped eves alone, but... is that not what your friend would do?" He asked. "Would he not want to help, if there was helping to be done?"

Worth watched him for a moment. Then he let out another sigh, shaking his head as a smirk came to his face. "Bleeding hearts of t' world unite, eh?" He muttered as he reached up with his free hand to rake his fingers through his hair. "Alright, fair enough. But I'm sure you're aware whatever we do, it's for Hanna. Got nothin' t' do with your little brat."

The zombie almost smiled at these words. He might have, had the situation been different, but for the moment he was too concerned with Hanna. "Alright. I assume you'll lead us to him, then?" He asked.

Larden nodded. There was a pause. "Uh, sir?" He addressed Worth, not knowing his name. "Ah, you might... want to bring medical things. And... thank you. For the blood."

"...'Scuse me?" The blond blinked as he looked up from his cigarette. He then let out a laugh. "Ya really are new, ain't ya? Sorry t' disappoint, but I don't make house calls. Have fun wit' the rescue attempt... and ifin' ya dun' mind, it's 'bout time for my show, so I'll be leaving." With that he gave a nod and turned to leave, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Larden watched him leaving, very, very confused. "Worth doesn't know how to walk outside the door. He's an asshole on the best of days." Conrad commented. He'd been watching the other vampire, hating him and hating himself for even considering maybe following him to the stupid place where very likely he could just kill them all. The only thing was, it seemed a very Hanna thing to do, which was the only reason Conrad considered going. For Hanna. 

"But..." Larden took a few steps and crossed the room, grabbing Worth by the arm. "You must come!"

The doctor's eyebrows rose as a pale hand quite suddenly clamped down on his wrist. He turned to look to Larden, quirking an eyebrow, as if he were honestly shocked that anyone would even touch him. Most people avoided doing so, either due to fear of him or the layer of grime that covered his very being. "No," He said after a moment. "I _must_ get to my fuckin' backroom, cause damnit I need to know what questions they're _not_ gonna answer on Lost this week. So unless you want to lose your goddamn fangs, you'll let me the fuck go." His voice was calm in spite of the threat, giving off a very clear air of confidence. He was going into that back room, damnit.

"If that is what you want," Larden released his grip but didn't move his hand, his eyes terrified but completely sincere, "then I will apologize in advance for your loss. I am not in the belief that he will make it home, with the state he is in."

Worth had opened his mouth to give a considerably more angry retort, but he stopped at the mention of Hanna. He simply glared at the vampire, grinding his yellowed teeth together. For an instant he seemed to be mentally warring with himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

"Worth, if he says that's the case, then he's right. You really should come," The zombie spoke up, eyes narrowing

"Oh, fuck off!" Worth snapped as he pulled his arm away from Larden's hand. "What part of 'he's just a Goddamn customer' do you people not get? Why the fuck should I come with you? I don't give a damn if he lives or dies! If anythin', it'd be fuckin' easier if he kicked it, then I won't have to deal with him never fucking paying me!"

"Stop lying to yourself, you fuck!" Conrad snapped, blood boiling. "It's _Hanna_ , for fucks sakes, so get your disgusting car from where-ever the hell you hide it and stop being a dick!" 

Larden took a step back towards the zombie. "Do they always shout this much?" He asked quietly.

Worth let out a harsh, almost bitter laugh. "Being Hanna dun' make him special, what part of that aren't you getting?" His fists gave a twitch at his sides as he looked to the grimy floor, teeth grinding down on his cigarette. "Listen. In case you haven't noticed, being an asshole is kind of what I fucking do. I don't do the whole 'charging into danger' bullshit because it is fucking _stupid_ , understand? Maybe you people can do somethin', I don't know, that's your own Goddamn perogative. But I didn' survive this long by playing the Goddamn hero, ya got me? I don't _do_ that shit."

It was strange, really, hearing Worth state these things so plainly. It was almost as if he were arguing with himself just as much as he was arguing with all of them.

Larden stepped in before Conrad could say another word. "Maybe... you can wait in the car? He might... last... until we get him outside." He offered.

The blond stood in silence for a moment, fists clenched so tightly his nails were digging into his palms. After a moment he let out a sigh and looked to Larden, dark eyes appearing strangely lost. "Is he really tha' bad?" He muttered, voice nearly a whisper.

Larden nodded repeatedly and quite fast. "He's been losing blood for days. And... with how I left Lenore... I cannot think what she might do next."

Worth let out a long sigh. "God _damnit_!" Here one foot shot out to kick a cabinet, the flimsy metal thing shuddering under the abuse. "I already used the 'bleedin' hearts of t' world unite' line too," He grumbled. With those words he made his way over to the desk and began fishing through the drawers.

"Does that mean you're coming?" The zombie inquired, raising a brow.

"Feh," Worth huffed as he finally grabbed a terrifyingly grimy set of keys and tossed it into the air. He then stalked toward the door, jamming his hands into his pockets. Upon realizing the zombie was in his way he scowled. "D'ya mind? I'm fuckin' _walking_ here!" He growled, reaching out and jabbing the zombie in the chest with his index finger.

The zombie quirked a brow at him, then looked to Larden as if he were waiting for something.

Larden beamed a smile that was grateful incarnate. "Thank you." He said. "I would... give you a hug but I fear that you would hurt me." He smiled, and made his way for the door after Conrad.

The doctor blinked, then rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Dun' make me change my Goddamn mind, I'm movin' here. And I had better fuckin' get paid extra for this shit," He muttered as the zombie stepped aside and he pulled open the door. "Now come on, let's go. I'll pull t' car around or whatever."

And with that they were out the door and the rescue was on its way.


	10. Chapter 10

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me."  
  
Worth with typically blunt as he leaned against the steering wheel. His disgusting blood red minivan (dubbed "The Worth-Mobile") looked incredibly out of place sitting at the end of the tree-lined driveway. Said driveway had to be a good mile long, but they could all easily see the towering structure of Cruentus Manor even from that far off. Said manor would best have been described as a modern-day castle, judging from the gleaming white walls, wide windows, the great columns that seemed to be lining the huge entryway and the various statues and fountains that dotted the landscape leading up to it. When one added all that to the golden gate that blocked them from entering the estate... well, Worth had really said it best.  
  
"How the _hell_ did we not know about this?" The doctor muttered as he gaped at the mansion.  
  
The zombie shook his head as he peered out at the mansion from his own seat, trying to squint past the stains on the window that he really hoped were just mucus. "A better question would be 'how do we get in'?" He asked as he finally turned his gaze from the mansion to the vampire sitting in the passenger seat.  
  
Said vampire took this as a cue and practically launched himself from the passenger seat. He had spent the whole ride trying to sit on as little of the seat as possible because not only was it stained, he could've sworn it was moving.   
  
He approached a keypad on the center of the gate and punched in what looked like a whole lot of numbers, and with a clang it unlocked. He pushed the doors and they swung open wide, rather ironically inviting.   
  
"Ah," The zombie commented as he watched the doors swing open, edging for the side door of the van. "I suppose that dissolves the issue of dealing with security."  
  
"Darn. I was _so_ lookin' forward ta seeing Alice over here dodge bullets and get tasered or some shit like that," Worth muttered as he glanced back at the other two occupants of the van. "Right, well, this is where ya get off. Have fun gettin' your ass handed to ya by a little girl for the third time," The doctor drawled, a terrible grin coming to his face.  
  
Conrad slipped out of the car, grumbling something along the lines of "fuck off", before heading towards the edge of the driveway. Larden was waiting for them, holding the gates open.  
  
The zombie moved toward the doorway of the van, fully prepared to get out and do whatever was necessary to get Hanna back. However, before he could leave, Worth stopped him. "'Ey," The blond didn't look at him, he just stared straight ahead as he leaned against the steering wheel. "I don't haul my ass out for nothin'. You'd better fulfill your end of the deal and get him back alive, you got me?"  
  
A nod was all that was needed to pass the message across, and with that the undead man stepped out of the van and slammed the door behind him. Normally he wasn't one to slam doors, but he was well aware if he didn't the door was never going to close. That task done, he made his way to the gates.  
  
"Alright, where do we go in?" He asked as he gazed up at the hulking structure beyond the towering gates.  
  
Larden thought for a long moment, counting doors in his head. "The side door might be safest." Larden pointed to the east side of the house.  
  
The zombie nodded. "Alright, let's go then." With those words they were off, the three of them making their way across the soft, perfectly cut lawn. "Won't she know we're coming?" The zombie asked as they walked, his trenchcoat swishing out behind him.  
  
"This door is locked." Larden murmured, fishing for his keys. "Even if she does know, she will not expect us through here. It is safer."  
  
"You talk like she booby-trapped the other doors or something." Conrad said, glancing around the yard, waiting for whatever trap these two psychopaths might have set. He trusted Larden just as much as he trusted Worth.   
  
"She just might have. I don't know her anymore." Larden shrugged, pulling a large set of keys from an inside pocket to his vest.   
  
Hanna's zombie friend said nothing, he just continued walking purposefully. Traps or not, nothing was going to stop him. Hanna was in that mansion somewhere and he was going to take the redhead back, and if Lenore tried to stop him... well, he wasn't exactly going to hurt her if he could help it, but it wasn't going to change anything. He was going to get Hanna back.  
  
The trip across the yard was surprisingly uneventful. There were cameras here and there, but all they really did was watch. Whatever Larden had done when he'd keyed in that code, it had apparently taken some of the security as well. They arrived at the side door stood enough and the zombie glanced around as he waited for Larden to unlock it, feeling somewhat suspicious. It all felt a bit too easy.  
  
Larden stuck the key in the lock and unlocked the door. "Now, heh, the reason why Lenore would not suspect us here." He shook his head. He proceeded to turn the handle to open the door as far as it would go (which did nothing to the door) and then stuck the key in the lock. When he let go of the handle, it didn't turn back to closed. With a nice kick to the area with the handle, the door swung open. "It doesn't like to open."  
  
"Ah," The zombie gave no other comment as he stepped inside, glancing around. They had entered a rather spacious kitchen, which seemed to be decked out with all the latest things. Gleaming chrome appliances, perfectly polished marble countertops, overly expensive cooking utensils hanging on the walls. It all looked far too big for one person, though the zombie supposed at one time it had been meant to serve more than one girl.  
  
"Where do we go from here?" He asked as he glanced back to Larden.  
  
Larden let Conrad gingerly step over the threshold, all frowns and grumbles, before trying to yank the door tightly closed, key in hand.   
  
" _Unten ist der saal und nach links die stufen._ " Larden pointed down a hall, a little preoccupied with making sure the damn door stayed closed. It took him a second to realize what he said - Conrad's deeply confused face was a giant clue.   
  
"Ah, pardon, _eine Sekunde_." He held up a finger, before going back to yank furiously on the door, grumbling under his breath. " _Sie dummes Scheißding diesmal in Ihrem Leben tut gerade, wozu dem Bumsen ich Sie will_ \- Ah! There we go. Ah, down the hall and to the left are the stairs." Larden redirected them in English once the door was closed, looking embarrassed.   
  
The zombie barely even gave a nod of thanks before he was making his way down the hallway, walking swiftly. He didn't exactly want to alert Lenore of his presence, but he couldn't help it. With Hanna so close, all he wanted to do was run. He rushed past the generic landscapes and pieces of modern art placed tastefully on the walls and barely gave a passing glance to the family photo placed on one wall. He came to a stop in a large, circular, two story white room. It seemed rather bare aside from the cleanly polished floor, a few more pieces of modern art, and a sloping staircase that could be entered from either side of the room to get to a large balcony that overlooked what appeared to be the main entryway of the house. The zombie came to a stop here as he glanced around, looking to the various doors. Where was Hanna?  
  
It was then that he heard a slow clap coming from above him. "Oh goodness, Mr. Zombie. Here I thought you were better than this. Breaking and entering is against the law, you know."  
  
Orange eyes blinked and the zombie glanced up to see Lenore standing at the middle of the balcony overlooking the room. Her hair and clothes were in a disarray, her pale face splattered with blood. In spite of this she managed to keep an air of being vaguely collected, her arms behind her back as she gazed down at her new guest. Hanna, in a plain, straight-backed chair behind her, looked considerably worse.  
  
He was shaking, from pain and fear and tumbling emotions. His eyes, those electric blue orbs that were normally so vibrant and alive, were so dull they looked dead. They were staring at nothing, and occasionally they would flutter closed briefly as a shudder shook him to the core. He was fighting something, in his head, and that much was apparent. With the blood splatter, the tears, the visible burns and breaks and scars and the deathly pale tint to his skin, it was also apparent that whatever was going on in his head was keeping him alive as long as he was, considering the blood loss.   
  
"Lenore!" Larden trotted to the front of the room, shoes skidding on the floor. "Let him go, Lenore!"  
  
"Oh, that must be how you got past my security system," Lenore hummed as she looked to Larden, eyes narrowing. "My bad. I really should have had your access code revoked, considering you're a _traitor_ and all."  
  
"Lenore," It was the zombie that spoke this time, hands clenching into fists. He had been shocked speechless when he first saw Hanna, taking a sharp breath he hadn't needed. He hadn't actually _seen_ Hanna since before he'd been captured. Seeing the redhead now, beaten and broken and such a terrible contrast from the Hanna he knew... it almost too much to take. He had to try to pull himself together though, for Hanna's sake.  
  
He had failed to protect Hanna once. It wouldn't happen again.  
  
"Lenore, let him go." His voice was typically quiet, but there an edge to it, a very real command.  
  
Golden eyes widened. "You want me to let him go? Sorry, I'm afraid I can't do that," The dark-haired girl paced behind Hanna, tracing one pale finger across his arm and up his shoulder. "I'd love to, don't get me wrong, but as you can see he's kind of busy learning the truth. If I were to interrupt it right now, it would break his mind." A terrible grin came to her face as she placed both hands on Hanna's shoulders. "So it's all quite out of my hands, you see. It's up to him to come to the proper conclusion and finally learn his lesson. Don't worry, it shouldn't be long now~!"  
  
"Lenore! You know this isn't right!" Larden glanced at both sets of stairs, wondering if he could get up them faster than she could act. Not likely. He wasn't much of a quick draw.   
  
Something in Hanna's mind stirred at the sound of the zombie's voice. But the nightmare suppressed it, devoured it, an a tear of pure agony rolled down Hanna's face. He murmured a name, no one's name yet someone's name, the kind of name that didn't really belong, yet was a name for him all the same.  
  
The zombie's brow furrowed as he watched the tear trickle down. "Hanna?" He muttered. Had the redhead just responded or had he imagined it?  
  
Lenore scowled, her pale fingers tensing and digging into Hanna's shoulders. "No, _you're_ wrong! I'm teaching him what's right, why can't you see that!?" She snapped, voice ringing through the large room. "I wouldn't have had to do this if he'd just listened. He'll understand once it's over, you'll _all_ understand when it's over!"  
  
"Understand what?" The undead man asked from below. "Tell me, what is this supposed to teach him?" He was speaking to her, but his eyes were still on Hanna, gauging the redhead's reaction to the low rumble of his voice.  
  
The dark-haired girl let out a huff. "Don't you get it? I'm _helping_. Monsters like you, vampires like that _thing_ behind you, they kill people, they killed my parents. The right thing to do would be to wipe you all out, to avenge the deaths of all the people you've killed. Why don't you understand that? I'm only doing what's right!" She yelled out the last bit, a crackle of magic energy flickering through the air at her outburst.  
  
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth." Larden said to Lenore, before glancing at Conrad, who looked very ready to kill a bitch at Lenore's words, and holding up a hand to stop him. Conrad glared at him fiercely, about to snap about taking fucking orders from the enemy, but when he looked into the other vampire's eyes, he saw the same ones he'd seen on the zombie for the past few days, and he backed off, storing his anger for later.   
  
"Lenore, _meinne mutter_ had something to add to that phrase that seems... to apply to your methods. 'An eye for an eye _und_ a tooth for a tooth leaves everyone blind, toothless and alone."  
  
He wasn't watching Hanna as he spoke. The redhead was sure he heard the zombie's voice in his head this time, not coming from the rage driven _thing_ that wasn't his friend anymore, the deep voice vibrating through to his bones. In his head, he was trapped, bleeding; nay, _gushing_ rivers of blood - there was no way he had that much blood in his body and yet it kept coming - screaming in pain and the voice brought a second of calm. And then he screamed again, but this time he screamed a name, never mind the fact that his voice felt raw, like sandpaper, like he was ripping it apart as he screamed. He screamed for his friend.   
  
On the outside, he let out a whimper and struggled lightly at his bonds, eyes shutting for a little longer, brows jutting downward in pain or concentration.   
  
Lenore grit her teeth as she stalked away from Hanna to rail of the balcony. "How would _you_ know!?" She exclaimed as she slammed her palms down on the rail, the force actually sending a crack through the wood. "You know, maybe everyone deserves to be blind, have you ever considered that!?"  
  
The zombie's eyes were still on Hanna, his eyes narrowing. He had definitely caught a whimper that time, though he tried to remain in the conversation. "And who are you to decide who deserves to be blind? Is it really your right to judge?" He asked.  
  
"Of course it is!" The dark-haired girl snapped. "My daddy had a right and so do I! I... he was smart, he knew what he was doing, so he had a right to judge! We're allowed to because we're _right_ , damnit!"  
  
One eyebrow rose at this remark. "Is that so?  And what of those who killed your parents? What if in their minds, they were the ones who had the right to judge?" The zombie asked, voice still calm, as if he were reasoning with a child and weren't in the middle of what was essentially a life or death situation.  
  
"Then they're wrong!" Lenore screamed, stopping her foot down as another spark of energy flashed through the room. "They're wrong, they're wrong, my daddy was the only one who was right, why don't you get that!?"  
  
"Because pain is never the right answer!" Larden snapped, body suddenly very tense. Like he knew that comments like that would get him hurt. Like he was talking to her father.   
  
Hanna squirmed in his seat, the tiniest groan of sound escaping him. There was a light in the darkness in his mind, but he just had to get to it with a zombie latched painfully to the top of his skull.   
  
Lenore's hands balled into fists, her teeth clenching together. "How would you know!?" She screamed back. "You're wrong, you don't know anything! You're wrong!" There was another spark of energy, this one around both her and Hanna, but the dark-haired girl was clearly too wrapped up in the argument with Larden to care.  
  
The zombie was entirely fixated on Hanna now, Lenore merely some dangerous thing on the edge of it all. "Hanna, you're in there, I know you can hear me, come on..." He said, his voice still merely a murmur so Lenore wouldn't notice.  
  
Hanna, on the outside, closed his eyes and he didn't open them again.   
  
Inside, he was thinking. This was a dream he was trapped in, he was sure of it. He just had to get himself out of it. _Wake up, wake up, this isn't real._ And then a thought came to him, about things he heard, and he smiled, because he figured it out. He had a way out after all. He could just hear Lenore on the fringes of his mind, just as he could hear his friend, and he heard her say she was teaching him her ways.   
  
So, using what strength he had, he rolled over, the zombie in his mind on his chest, ripping him open, and Hanna bared his neck for the final, mortal bite.  
  
Because this was just a dream, and in any case, his friends weren't the monsters, and he would gladly die for them.   
  
On the outside, the tiniest voice: "Malvolio..."  
  
Larden glanced between Conrad, who was watching with an angry hope in his eyes, the zombie, who was focused on Hanna, and Lenore. He realized very fast that he needed to keep Lenore distracted. "I knew _ihr vater_! Pain only taught me to be afraid!"  
  
Lenore bit her lip as she glared down at Larden. "You... you're..." She seemed temporarily at loss for words as gold met gold. Because in a way, she knew. She didn't want to accept it, but those eyes had never lied to her before. But that didn't make sense, because her father hadn't lied to her either, and she just felt so impossibly lost at that moment.  
  
And then came the flicker of energy between her and Hanna, an explosion of black, as if a final cord had snapped. At that instant the zombie started forward, eyes widening. " _Hanna_!"  
  
Hanna snapped back to reality, head going back because oh _jesus_ he forgot how much reality hurt right now but he quickly overcame the shock of pain and managed to focus his vision on the green and black and orange figure that sent a thrill of hope and happiness through his spine.   
  
"Orsino!" Hanna's voice was froggy but he didn't care. His vision swam and his head rocked and he felt dizzy and oh, great, that blood loss hadn't just been in his head. He chuckled weakly, his head rolling with his vision. It didn't matter that he was _probably_ on his way to death's door, he had his friends and everything was perfectly okay.   
  
Until he remembered he was still kinda being held hostage.  
  
And apparently Lenore realized this too. She spun around to face Hanna, eyes wide. "Wh-what!? B-but you shouldn't be awake, that's impossible!" She sputtered.  
  
The zombie smiled. He actually _smiled_ , relief clear on his face as he gazed up at the redhead. Sure, Hanna was covered in blood and his voice was shaky and without that energy he sounded almost nothing like the paranormal investigator, but no one else would give him such a ridiculous name. "Hanna! Hang on, we're going to get you down from there!" He called up.  
  
"N-no! _No_ , you're not, because this wasn't supposed to happen!" Lenore yelped, still fixated on Hanna. Shaking, pale hands came up to clutch at her head, her expression one of disbelief. "Y-you... _how_!?"  
  
"I kinda let them eat me but that's so not the point right now." Hanna answered Lenore's question with a feeble chuckle. And then he turned to face his friends, grinning. "Oh heyyyyy Orsino you're SMILING!" And of course he mentally chocked up another smile point for the zombie.   
  
Larden watched, arm held out to stop either the zombie or Conrad from a charge right then. He knew something was coming. Lenore was breaking, and fast, and already under stress. And he knew Lenore - Lenore didn't break down.   
  
This wasn't over yet.  
  
Lenore gaped at Hanna for a moment. Then the giggling began, her entire body shuddering. "Of course. _Of course_. I should have seen it coming, you always were a bit unorthodox! But it's fine, it's _fine_. I still have time, I can still make this work! You'll see, you'll see!" She let out a booming cackle, then with a quick, jerking motion suddenly thrust a hand toward Hanna, energy sparking around her. " _Morsus_!"  
  
Hanna looked like he was in the electric chair. The pain, the spell, opened up the old things that had scabbed over and now, not only was he writhing and thrashing and screaming a dry, raw scream at the intense pain, he was bleeding more and worse and faster and it added to the pain. It also added to the delirious dizzy feeling Hanna got when the pain ebbed.  
  
This was quite possibly the worst mistake Lenore could have possibly made. The instant Hanna began to writhe in pain, it was as if something within the zombie snapped. He immediately pushed past Larden's arm and sprinted for the stairs, coat flaring out behind him. He didn't know _how_ he was going to stop Lenore or what he was going to do, but he had to stop this!  
  
Unfortunately for him, Lenore noticed. She immediately spun around and held out a hand. " _Lumen_!" As with last time, a burst of lighting shot forth. It sailed through the air and blasted the spot just ahead of the zombie, shattering the marble floor and leaving a great, smoking gash. "You get away! He's mine, you can't have him! I'm teaching him, he's mine, he's mine!" The dark-haired girl shrieked. The air around her was crackling with energy, her hair standing on end as she scowled down at her "guests".  
  
The zombie skidded to a stop for but a moment and looked to Lenore. Then, wordlessly, he kept coming.  
  
"W-what are you doing!? STAY BACK! _L-Lumen_!" Due to her stuttering, this spell discharged wrong, sailing away from her and blasting through a nearby wall.  
  
Conrad, seeing a moment, raced up the other set of stairs. Maybe he could get to Hanna and get him down while the zombie had Lenore occupied. Larden, with a shout of something very bad sounding in German, raced after him, more for Lenore's safety than anyone elses.   
  
"Lenore, stop! Please!"  
  
And Hanna was trying to watch but he couldn't focus and his mind was spinning and his closed his eyes and ohgod this wasn't good he need to keep breathing and try and calm his frazzled brain.  
  
Lenore let out a yelp, taking a step back as she watched the zombie and two vampires make their way toward her. Golden eyes darted between the three of them, as if she wasn't sure where to start. "No, no! G-get back! Get back! _Morsus_!" She screamed, pointing to the zombie.  
  
The undead man froze for a moment, head dropping down as his entire body shuddered. The pain was unimaginable! Even dulled by being dead for ten years, it still shot through his system like liquid fire. He stood frozen for a moment, gloved hand shooting out to clutch at the banister, teeth grinding shut. Then, in spite of the pain, he forced himself to look up and begin to take a shaking step forward.  
  
If Lenore thought pain was enough to keep him from Hanna, she had another thing coming.  
  
The instant those orange eyes met hers, Lenore lost it. She let out a scream as she took another step back, shaking her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "No, no, no! It's not working, it's supposed to be working! Morsus! Morsus, _MORSUS_!" She cried. However, in her state the spell was missing, simply hitting walls, the stairs, a table in small bursts of power.  
  
Finally, she grit her teeth and shook her head violently, reaching up clutch at her temple so tightly she was drawing blood. "No! I-I can't! I can't stop now!" Magic energy flared around her like a heartbeat, her hair and dress fluttering around her as she began to float. "No, no, no! Stop stop stop! STOP! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!" It was then that she threw her head back, screaming at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking with the force as she shouted out something different.  
  
 **"INCENDIA!"**  
  
White and blue flames leapt to life around the girl, spreading outward and consuming the balcony. The flames acted as a wall, spreading across the balcony she occupied and flaring up at the tops of the stairwells, stopping the zombie running up them in his tracks. The zombie skidded to a stop, eyes wide as he felt the intense heat on his face. There was no way he was getting through that fire without burning to a crisp.  
  
And it didn't help the fact that instead of just forming a wall of flames, the fire kept spreading.  
  
Both vampires skidded to a stop at the wall of spreading blue flame. Larden was literally prepared to run through it, no matter the consequences, but Conrad kept him running back down the stairs and away from the spreading flame. "You're not much good to her crispy, you fuck!" He snapped, and with a shove, Larden was no longer running with Conrad, but tumbling down the last few stairs that he had been refusing to run down.   
  
The heat brought Hanna's senses back up, and yeah, maybe he couldn't feel his feet anymore, or his legs, or back, but his brain was more alert, enough to tell him staying would not be a good idea but going was not possible.   
  
The zombie looked from the flames to Conrad and Larden, then back again. He was clearly fighting  through a dilemma. On one hand, Hanna was behind that wall of flame. On the other hand, Conrad had a point.  
  
A burst of sizzling heat made his decision for him and the zombie was forced to retreat down the stairs as well, away from the fire that was quickly spreading down the staircase and through the rest of the mansion.  
  
Behind the wall, Lenore's screams were coming to a stop. She was floating, twisting in the air, nails digging into her own flesh as the fire raged around her in a whirling burst of white hot heat. She had calmed down slightly and was now simply floating... but the fire was still bursting to life around her, flowing from her.  
  
Golden eyes fluttered open as a bit of her rage dissipated and Lenore realized what was going on. "W-what? Why hasn't it stopped yet? Why hasn't it stopped!?" She yelped, eyes widening in terror as she watched the flames flow from her body. She wasn't being hurt by them, but they were still coming, spreading far beyond her control, extending past the balcony and lighting everything they touched ablaze in a matter of seconds. Expensive furniture was blackening in seconds, tongues of fire licking up curtains as if they were alive.   
  
The fire was beyond her control now, and Lenore was getting scared. "Stop! Stop! _D-desina, desina_! WHY ISN'T IT WORKING!?" She cried, voice going shrill with panic.  
  
"Lenore!" Hanna's voice was tiny from lack of use, or water, and he could feel his mind swimming even as he forced it to focus. He had an idea. She would have to trust him, but he had an idea that could possible save everyone's lives.   
  
" _Desina_ , augh! Stop, stop, make it stop!" Lenore was hysterical now, reaching up to clutch at her head again as she began to hyperventilate. Tears flowed down her face and seemed to boil to nothing almost instantly in the intense heat. "Why can't I get the spell right? I-I don't know the spell, I don't know the spell, what am I supposed to do!?"  
  
"Lenore, listen!" Hanna was trying to shout and failing so hard that on a normal day it would have been really funny. "Let me out of this chair, I can help!"  
  
Lenore let out a whimper. "I can't! I don't remember the spell, I don't remember the spell to let you go, I don't!" She cried over the roar of the flames, shaking her head again. "T-that spell is supposed to cancel stuff, I can't remember it, I... augh..." Her voice was growing weaker, her energy sapping out to keep feeding the flames. "H-help, please... I c-can't remember the spell... I-I...." She shook her head again, biting her lip. No, no, she would not fall here, she knew this spell at least, her mother had taught her this spell!  
  
"Ex... ex... _eximo_!" She gasped out, desperately hoping it was the right one.  
  
The suction cup sound of skin separating from wood was music to Hanna's ears. Never mind the fact that getting up was a problem in and of itself, the paranormal investigator was personally very glad to stand for once. He let blood redirect itself back into his legs for a second, the room giving a violent spin and nearly toppling him over.   
  
When he had righted his mind, he took the two steps over to Lenore and grabbed her hand, pulling her close to him and holding her there, tight against him, in a hug, of sorts. The heat coming off her left searing burns all along what skin Hanna had exposed, but he didn't care. He had to have her close, he couldn't shout.   
  
" _Desino._ " Hanna found that standing had sapped what talking energy he had, so even the whisper was forced. "That's the spell."   
  
Golden eyes widened in surprise as Hanna suddenly pulled her close, the flames wrapping around them as if it were embracing both of them. "O-okay! Okay! _Desino_!" She called out, her voice wavering slightly as she called it out. Fortunately, Hanna had been right about the spell, so the flames did finally stop spouting from Lenore and dissipated. While they still raged around the two of them, consuming much of the house, at least there weren't any more flowing out of the little girl.  
  
The instant the spell was cancelled, Lenore collapsed again Hanna, pale fingers reaching up to clutch at what remained of his brightly colored shirt. She was gasping for breath through her tears and shaking like a leaf. After a moment she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, a burst of energy sparked off of her, thankfully missing Hanna and blasting yet another hole in the wall.   
  
The fire was gone, but the magic was still very clearly entirely out of control, and the dark-haired girl was too exhausted to hold it all in anymore.  
  
Hanna drew in a deep breath, legs unsteady under both their weight. Luckily, he was leaning on her just as much as she was on him, so they made a balanced sort of a-frame like thing which kept them both upright.   
  
That was, until the fire started turning Hanna's skin to a crisp. Quickly, with no thought in it, Hanna threw his weight (and Lenore's, but this was saving her so in the end it evened out) against the nearest door, which opened for them and let them topple inside. Wherein, Hanna scrambled to his feet, shut the door, and leaned on it, the world in his eyes practically upside down. He could feel himself shutting down slowly, blood in his feet, hands, brain and lungs coming from organs not in use at the moment, just to keep him alive and moving. Survival. The key point.   
  
"Lenore," The word was so quiet, Hanna was glad the roar of the flames was gone so she could hear, "is there a marker in here?"  
  
Lenore remained silent for a bit, eyes squeezed shut as another spark flared up from her. After a moment, however, she shook her head and forced herself to look around. They appeared to be in her room again, which would make sense, seeing how the carpet felt familiar and so wonderfully soft. There was the urge to just simply fade into that whiteness, but the heat that still permeated through the room from the flaming hallway outside reminded her of the danger they were in. She had absolutely no idea what was going on anymore, everything was in a strange magic haze, so all she could really do was trust Hanna.   
  
"I-In the desk..." She said as she tried to stand. The instant she tried, however, another burst of energy shot off of her frame, this time in the form of a short burst of flame that thankfully dissipated before it could catch anything else on fire.  
  
Hanna stumbled to the desk and flung open a few drawers, until at last he managed to sift his marker from the contents. On his way over to Lenore, his legs decided to give out, and he collapsed. He had to crawl the rest of the way over to the girl, leaving a red streak across the white carpet.   
  
"Lenore, you're gonna have'ta hold still, this might start to sting a little. M'sorry if it does." Hanna smiled, and pulled the girl's bare arm closer. Blinking his vision into focus, he started to draw.   
  
The inky black patterns were like spiderwebs scattered on her arms, runes so old they seemed from another world. He covered her hand, then her arm, up to the shoulder, and with a final flick, he moved onto the other arm. The previously drawn rune began to glow with a soft, translucent light, lighting up the black marker white and fading it into her skin until it looked no more than an old scar, a burn, raised and white.   
  
Lenore had tried to hold still, and for the most part it was a success, her pale fingers clenching below her as she struggled to try to hold onto some measure of control. Her magic, on the other hand, was another story. The instant Hanna started placing the runes, the bursts of energy began to come out stronger and stronger, as if the magic itself were throwing a fit in an attempt to keep Hanna from completing the rune. A flash of lighting shot off of her and blew a hole through the door, flames burst to life around them and began to flicker at the curtains, winds whipped up and sent the desk through the wall in a shuddering explosion of splinters and drywall.  
  
It was around halfway through that Lenore began to shake her head, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes as the one completed rune began to glow. "Ah... _aahh_!" A hand shot out to grab Hanna's wrist, desperately trying to keep him from continuing. "P-please, it hurts! I-- ah!" Again came a burst of energy, the force of it enough to make her release Hanna with a yelp. She let out a high-pitched whimper and forced her hand back down, bloodied fingernails gripping at the carpet again. "N-nevermind, keep going!" She exclaimed, gritting her teeth.  
  
When she'd grabbed him, she'd actually caught sight of the state Hanna was in. He was clearly not doing well, but he was trying anyway, and the magic she was giving off was clearly dangerous. If he could do that, she could at least do this.  
  
Hanna nodded softly, his head bouncing in a way that could have been mistaken for nodding off if his hands weren't still moving across her skin. He finished the second arm and moved across to draw more on the expanse of skin that stuck above Lenore's chest. The runes connected at the arms, and then he moved up her neck, putting a comforting hand on her hair while he made a few loose marks on her face. They connected to the white scars that were runes on her chest, and when they did, the shock wave it produced knocked Hanna backwards a few feet. They glowed a fierce orange, then red, and then they seared into her skin and it all stopped.   
  
Hanna was lying on his back on the floor feet away, no energy to do much more than breath and chuckle because he wasn't actually sure that was going to work. Sealing magic tends to fail because the magic is stronger than the runes and kills the sealer before it's completed. He managed it. It drained him of everything, but he managed it.  
  
Lenore let out a piercing scream, throwing back her head as the runes glowed. The prickling, stringing sensation she'd been feeling earlier had intensified to a blazing heat, far hotter than even the flames she'd produced. It felt as if something were burning into her very essence, searing into her and through her and for an instant all she could see was orange.  
  
Then it was over and she collapsed, shuddering and curling inward into a ball. She lay there, her breath coming out in sobbing gasps. After a few moments, however, she forced herself to raise her head and look to Hanna.  
  
He wasn't moving.  
  
She let out a gasp and forced herself to crawl over to Hanna, dragging herself across the drying, rust red stain he'd left on the carpet. When she finally reached his side she collapsed for a moment, gasping for breath and coughing. She then reached out to shake Hanna lightly. "Mr. Cross? Mr. Cross, are you okay?" After a moment of silence, she shook him again. "Mr. Cross? Hanna? Oh, please be alright!" She exclaimed.   
  
Hanna forced a nod. "Alright's'not the word, but yeahhhhh I'm alright." He chuckled. Black spots were swimming in his vision. "Tell DeCaprio m'sorry I didn't get to say g'bye, will you? 'N-'n tell Worth not to kill you." Hanna laughed, and then his vision went black, and he lost consciousness.   
  
Lenore's eyes widened as she watched Hanna's eyes flutter shut. "Hanna? Hanna, don't... Hanna, wake up!" She yelped, giving the redhead another shake. He didn't answer this time, of course. The dark-haired girl let out a whimper and shook him again, then seemed to realize it was futile. Her pale fingers clenched at fistfuls of Hanna's bright shirt as she squeezed her eyes shut. "N-not fair... you can't die like this... I need you... please don't..." She let out another sob as she tried and failed to pull Hanna close because of how weak she was. "You... you shouldn't have... you should have just let me... _no_..."  
  
Her head was spinning. The sealing magic (for she was well aware that was what it was) had done a number on her as well, and she was fading fast. Smoke and flickering embers were filtering into the room from the hole she'd made in the door, and the occasional rumble from the walls made it clear that the fire was making everything rather unstable. The building was going to come down soon, her legs couldn't move, and the man who she'd spent the past three days slowly killing had just given the last of his strength to help her.  
  
She took another shaky breath, then coughed violently as she finally collapsed beside Hanna. Her chest rose and fell, her breathing shallow and weak as the room continued to spin. She couldn't move, Hanna was unconscious or worse... what was she supposed to do now?  
  
Then, there was a bang as the window shattered. Larden, seeing which room they had gone into, had raced out the side door - kicking it open without a thought - and towards the back of the house. He'd been throwing rocks for a good minute, and he'd missed every one. Conrad had followed, and he'd found a large stone, which he lobbed at the window and somehow, that made contact. It also broke the window, but what can you say, it worked.  
  
"Nice shot," The zombie found himself commenting as he picked up the ladder Larden had sent him into the shed to get. He propped it against the shed with a heavy _'thunk'_ , then immediately began to scale the thing. There was no time to waste, he could only hope Hanna _was_ in the room they'd broken into and there wasn't some mistake.  
  
There was also the detail that, you know, Hanna could be dead already, but the zombie refused to even consider that.  
  
The zombie reached the windowsill easily and he brushed aside the rest of the broken glass so he could leap into the room. His sneakers hit the carpet with a dull thud and he peered through the smoky haze that filled the air, orange eyes flicking about as he took the scene in. The furniture was in splinters around the room, the bed having been blasted in half. Scorch marks and holes covered the walls, but what was really concerning was the bright red stain leading up to a certain redhead.  
  
"Hanna!" The undead man cried as he bolted across the room, dropping to his knees at the redhead's side instantly. He reached out to take his pulse, then let out a sigh of relief. It was there, though barely.  
  
Conrad was up the ladder next, instinctively covering his nose with his sleeve, though he didn't know why. Smoke didn't affect the dead. It did, however, affect the living. So Conrad did what he always did.   
  
"Fuck!" Liberally applying swearing didn't seem to help. He trotted over to Hanna's body and swore again. "Fuck! Dammit, Hanna, fucking getting yourself killed in all this!"  
  
"He's not dead," The undead man said as he scooped Hanna up. The redhead seemed lighter, though he didn't see how it was possible. "He's not doing well, though. We need to get him to Worth."  
  
"W-what?" Orange eyes glanced up to meet glazed gold as Lenore blinked up at him from Hanna's side. "Y-you're his zombie friend... a-and the vampire... what are you doing here?" The dark-haired girl mumbled as she tried and failed to sit up.  
  
"Saving him," The zombie replied without missing a beat. "It's what friends do."  
  
Lenore's brow furrowed, she looked very confused. "But you're--" She was forced to stop as she gave a weak cough, her eyes fluttering shut again. "I don't... I don't understand... why?" The last bit was a mumble, something nearly lost as she finally slipped into unconscious.  
  
Conrad frowned at the girl. "Because it's what Hanna would fucking do." He murmured to her, picking her up as best he could. He wasn't sure if he was telling her why they were saving Hanna, or saving her, or if he was even saying it to her and not himself. But that was the reason he was helping her out the window and down the ladder, away from the burning blaze. Because that's what Hanna would do if Hanna could do it.   
  
That, and her knight-in-fucking-armor Larden was off to go make sure the gates were unlocked and that they could actually get out of the grounds safely. He and Conrad had exchanged a glance before he left, and Conrad wasn't sure what he saw in the other vampire's eyes. It was like Larden wanted to help, but he didn't think he could. He hadn't been much help before.   
  
So Conrad was left to help the fucking psychopath down the stairs, because that's what Hanna would do, and like always, fuck it, it was for Hanna.   
  
The instant the zombie touched the grass with Hanna in his arms, he was sprinting back toward the front area of the house. He could feel the heat emanating from the mansion, could see the flames that encompassed it were a regular orange now as opposed to blue, but none of that mattered. What mattered was getting Hanna help and doing it fast.  
  
Fortunately, he had just gotten to front when an all too familiar blur of red skidded to a stop at the end of the driveway, leaving tiretracks in its wake. The moment it stopped, Worth threw the door open and leaped out of the van, gaping up at the flaming mansion. He then turned to look to the sprinting zombie and vampire.  
  
"What the _fuck_!?" He sputtered as he threw his hands up in the air. "I thought ya went in there t' fuckin' _rescue_ him, not burn the Goddamn place down! What, were you just helpless against your inner fucking arsonist or somethin'!? Jesus fucking Christ!" He screamed.  
  
"Blame the fucking girl you asshole!" Conrad shouted back, Lenore in his arms. Larden trotted over and relieved Conrad of his burden. "She caught the fucking place on fire."  
  
The blond blinked at the girl in question, as this was the first time he'd actually _seen_ the ten-year old who'd caused this whole mess. She looked pathetically tiny, curled up in Larden's arms like a cat, her pale body dotted with blotches of soot and shiny red burns. She looked like a little girl, not a psychopath by any means.  
  
Then again, he'd learned long ago to not judge books by their covers. Also, women were bitches at any age.  
  
"Fuckin' serious?" His eyes flicked to Larden and he gave a sneer. "Didn' ya teach her not to play with matches!? 'Only _you_ can prevent forest fires' and all that shit?" He then looked to Hanna, and it was here that he paused for a moment.   
  
The redhead was, in a word, a mess. Blood caked across his frame, his skin deathly pale and almost gray, his chest barely rising and falling with breath. He didn't look much bigger than Lenore all curled up in the zombie's arms for the moment, still as death.  
  
"Shit," He muttered, then jerked a thumb toward the van. "Back seat, _now_. You too, Legolas!" He barked as he turned and began to stalk toward the Worth-Mobile. He paused only long enough to fling the keys in Conrad's direction, not even looking to see if they made it to their destination as he called out his last command. "Confag, you're drivin', we're going to my Goddamn office!"  
  
The keys found their mark at Conrad's face, like always. Larden mused that the man had pretty damn good aim for not looking. Conrad hopped into the driver's seat, trying to coax the disgusting car to life, swearing at it all the while, and Larden hopped into the passenger seat, Lenore in his arms. He was distracted by the bright red burns all down her arms in the shape of the rune Hanna drew. Covered in soot and other burns, they were hard to see at a distance, but they drove concern into Larden anyway.  
  
The blond leaped into the back seat, motioning for the zombie to set Hanna back there well. The undead man quickly did as he was ordered, laying Hanna down with care as Worth dug through the back for his bags.  
  
"God-fucking-damnit, where-- aha!" The doctor grinned as he pulled up a medical bag and began digging through its contents, barely casting another glance up front. "I can patch up some things, but we still gotta get him to my place as fast as possible," He muttered as he whipped out a jug of disinfectant. "Hey, vampire! I was _talking_ to you, I need your damn little girl back here so I can check on her or whatever!"  
  
"No!" Larden snapped. He clutched Lenore a little closer. Now that he knew she was safe, that she wasn't _insane_ , he was her guardian again and fuck Worth if he thought Larden would let the back alley doctor deal with her. "I am taking her to a hospital. I am sorry but... I do not trust her in your care."  
  
Worth blinked, then scowled, making to rise in his seat. "'Ey, you listen here, you! I may not be certified but I _do_ have a fucking Goddamn certification, and considering your damn _bitch_ of a kid just nearly fucking _barbecued_ everyone I'd say you don't have much--"  
  
"Worth."  
  
Dark eyes went to glowing orange, and although the zombie said nothing else, the message was clear. After another moment the doctor let out a sigh and went back to working on Hanna. "Christ, I'd better get paid for dealing with you fuckers," He grumbled.  
  
Conrad, head steeled against any backseat driving or other conversation, was already peeling out of the driveway and speeding down the empty night streets, the firetrucks passing them down the road, going to the manor that lit up the sky like a strange and deadly dawn.


	11. Chapter 11

It had been two days now.

Really, the zombie was thankful for those two days. After dropping Larden and Lenore off at the nearest hospital and receiving some interesting stares from the paramedics as Worth cheerily flipped them off on the way out, the focus had been entirely on keeping Hanna alive. Worth must have scrubbed practically every inch of Hanna's skin with disinfectant, cursing a mile a minute as he noted the torn skin on his arms and legs and scowling at the burns. He'd slapped on salves and sewn up what gashes he could, tugged gauze and bandages as tightly as possible and used the zombie and Conrad's extra hands as needed. In the end, however, all they could do was wait and hope that Hanna would make it.

So Conrad and the zombie had pushed aside the pile of junk on Worth's couch, and for once the doctor hadn't complained when they placed Hanna there. After that the zombie had grabbed one of the multiple mismatched, rickity chairs that Worth owned and had sat at Hanna's side. He hadn't left since, no matter who tried to convince him to take a break.

The dead didn't need to sleep and he'd already let Hanna out of his sight once. He wouldn't leave again until he was _sure_ Hanna was okay.

For a while Conrad hovered, but then he had to get back to his work and deadlines and all that, and he thought the others should know the bundle of fire red hair was in bad straights, and he left. The first night since he had dropped by for a short time, but didn't stay. Maybe it was the fact that Hanna might not make it that drove him out - maybe he didn't want to be there when they found out they failed to save him. When he had worked so hard to keep Conrad alive. 

So it was on the second night that he had shown up and decided to hang around for a while. He pulled up a box - a chair was probably less stable - near the couch and just sat, arms crossed as he watched. 

Hanna managed to look a little better at this point. There was color in his face, at least, and the bleeding had stopped. He was scorched and black and burned and it was almost a godsend that he was able to sleep through all this, considering the pain he could have been in.

Worth had wandered in shortly after Conrad had, grumbling to himself as he checked Hanna over. "Still no change, then?" He muttered as he took the redhead's pulse.

The zombie merely shook his head, causing the doctor to grunt. "'Dun worry. He's been through worse... I know 's hard to believe, but it's true. He'll pull through," He said as he took a step back, putting his hands in his pockets. Whether he was trying to reassure the zombie or himself, he wasn't entirely sure.

Conrad tensed, snorting at the comment. "I don't think there's much worse than crispy fucking fried." He murmured.

"Feh, You'd be surprised. He's a tough kid." The doctor shrugged as he turned and began to walk away. "Don't knock anythin' over or whatever, ya still have to put my shit back when he wakes up."

Throughout the exchange, the zombie had said nothing. He simply sat there watching Hanna, gloved hands folded in his lap.

 

Conrad was about to snap a response about Worth putting his own damn shit back when he was readily distracted by the fact that there was a smile on Hanna's face. Not just a smile, but his eyes were open, if half lidded, and he was staring at Conrad and the zombie with an 'I knew you would be here' kind of face.

Orange eyes blinked in surprise, relief rushing over him in waves. Hanna was awake. Hanna was awake, which meant there was a chance he was going to be alright, and that was good. That was very good. So now what was he supposed to do?

There was a whole mess of things he wanted to say. The standard, utterly ridiculous "are you alright?" question that Hanna usually lied in response to, perhaps asking if the redhead wanted anything, apologies for the whole mess. He wanted to say all of this, but for some reason his throat constricted and he was left with nothing.

After a beat of silence, he finally managed to coax out a "Hey", as well as a small smile.

"Hey." Hanna murmured back. His voice was scratchy and hoarse, all raw and painful like strep-throat on steroids, so it sounded horribly funny, coaxing a chuckle from the redhead.

"You're a fucking idiot." Conrad's first words to Hanna were laden with a little more vocabulary and a little less happiness. 

"Good't'see you too, Connie." Hanna chuckled again, and he would have outright laughed, but everything hurt, even the things he didn't know he had.

The zombie shook his head. Leave to Conrad to approach such a situation with anger first. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he looked to the redhead, raising a brow. He was going to assume it went along the lines of "like I got hit by a truck" but it seemed like common courtesy to ask.

"Still kinda dizzy," Hanna chuckled again. He missed laughing, really. He missed laughing with his friends more. "Considering, though, pretty good. Better'n dead." He paused after a moment, before flashing a sheepish grin. "No offense."

A soft chuckle rumbled through the zombie's throat, probably the first time he'd laughed in days. "None taken," He murmured. After that he simply sat in silence for a moment, seemingly at loss for what to say. What was he _supposed_ to say? This was the first time he'd really seen Hanna and had spoken to him since the day he'd been kidnapped, the day this had all started. Seeing the redhead laying there, covered in burns and laughing weakly, it was such a sharp contrast to the the energetic twenty-four year old he'd been joking about Batman with days ago that it hurt. 

He felt somewhat guilty, though he was aware it was somewhat illogical. Of course it wasn't his fault that Larden had kidnapped him, wasn't his fault Lenore had nearly killed Hanna, but even so... thinking back to the beginning of it all, to that moment where he'd let the vampire in...

The zombie let out a sigh as he looked to Hanna, mentally counting each scrape, cut and bruise. He'd seen them all so much already, but now the redhead was awake and they were there and he had to make note of them, because they were his too. They should have been his.

"I'm sorry," He finally muttered, voice barely audible.

"Woah-hey, don't be sorry." Hanna tried to push himself up onto his elbows, even though this caused the room to spin violently in his vision for a moment, he managed to prop himself up against the arm of the couch. "What'd'you have to be sorry for? You kicked _ass_ back there."

The undead man blinked in confusion as he looked to Hanna. "I didn't do anything, Hanna. That was you. All I really did was let Larden in and start all this mess," He said, shaking his head.

"Yeah but... Larden's not a real bad guy, so him kidnapping you was totally not your fault. 'N Then you were _there_ , and you were running up the stairs all badass, like-like Batman!" Hanna sounded as excited as his messed up throat would let him. "Really, I'm just kinda glad you came for me."

During this exchange, Conrad rose, murmuring something about getting Worth, and left to go find him. He felt like he wanted to leave the zombie and Hanna alone for a moment, so getting the Doctor was a good excuse.

The zombie shook his head at the redhead's words. He supposed Hanna was right about Larden, but he still felt he hadn't done nearly enough. Regardless, Hanna didn't seem to be about to let him blame himself, so he supposed he'd just have to make it up how he always did: By patching Hanna up and helping him pull through.

"Well, I couldn't have done it without Larden," He murmured as he sat back and shrugged. "I'm just glad you held on long enough for us to get there, and that the girl didn't kill you." The zombie fell silent for a moment, then looked to Hanna again and rose an eyebrow. "I meant to ask... what happened to you two after the fire started? We found you unconscious and her covered in burn marks in her room. How did you get free?" He inquired.

Hanna leaned back, looking at the ceiling. "I helped her stop herself by sealing her magic..." He shrugged a little. "I mean she's gonna have to re-learn all her magic from scratch all over again and those burns won't go away but, hey, it's all turned out nice so far and she wanted to be stopped anyway, so yeah." He smiled. Yeah, accordingly, he did kind of fuck Lenore up by stopping her, but at least this time he didn't come out of it with a huge failure on his head, or her's. Everyone lived through it, which was a step in the right direction in his opinion. 

There was a moment of comfortable silence, before Hanna asked a very quiet question. "Hey, Hamlet... you ever.. ya'know, _resent_ the fact that I can't give you a name or help you get your memories back?" He was still looking at the ceiling, but it was easy to read that the idea was bothering him, just a little. "I mean, I think Galahad is pretty cool, but... yeah. Do you?"

Orange eyes blinked in confusion and the zombie simply stared at Hanna for a moment. "What?" No, of course not. I told you before... I think I am very different than what I was before, and it's easier to forget than be forgotten. What happened before now..." He trailed off as he gazed at his hands, considering his next words.

"...What happened then doesn't matter. Not anymore. What matters now is you. Nothing else."

Hanna closed his eyes and smiled, feeling more like he normally did moreso now that the question - and the images, oh god, the images of his friend ripping into his head like a rabid wolf, his blood everywhere - now that the images could be wiped from his head. Because his friends were better than what Lenore thought they were. They were his friends after all. 

"Yeah, we're best bros for _ever_." Hanna laughed, and it sounded like a laugh because all the talking had worked his throat good and well into working with him, if only for a little while. The friendly, comforting moment was appreciated for a few seconds until his stomach growled. 

"Manohman, I'm _starving_!" He chuckled, the vulnerable moment within him entirely vanished from his person like it was never there. "I haven't really eaten since Lenore had me for that tea-party thing the first day and I didn't even get any cakes, just tea, and she had some really good looking cakes, too."

The zombie blinked. Then came that familiar smile as he shook his head, finally standing up from the chair he'd been occupying for three days. Typical Hanna. "Well, I'll see if I can find anything edible in Worth's kitchen then. He's bound to have something." With those words he turned and made to leave.

It was then that Worth poked his head in. He glanced about, the smoke from his cigarette filtering into the room. "Is he--" He paused as his eyes fell upon the redhead. Then they narrowed dangerously, a low growl coming from his lips as he stepped fully into the room and folded his arms. "Whatdya know, the little bastard _is_ awake," He muttered.

Hanna tried to disappear amid his shoulders. "H-hey, Worth!" He tried to ignore the glare of certain death coming from the furred man. It was like he had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar by a very irate mother hen.

"Don't you _'Hey Worth'_ , me, you fucking brat!" The doctor snarled as he stomped in, jabbing a long, greasy finger in Hanna's direction. "What the _fuck_!? How the _hell_ do you manage to do this shit!? First you come in here whining to me about your fucking heterosexual life partner going missing, then the next thing I know there is a Goddamn _zombie_ walking in looking like someone killed his damned puppy and I hear you went and fucking _gave yourself up_!? The fuck is wrong with you!?" He roared, throwing his hands up in the air as he stopped before the couch. 

"Do you just not own a _single_ Goddamn bit of some semblence of a sense of fucking self preservation!? What, did you see the situation and go 'Gee, this looks like a fan-fucking-tastic time to get that Self-Sacrificing Hero thing done with'!? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST!"

Hanna's grin faltered a little. "No." He murmured. "But what was I gonna do, let someone else die? Besiiidessss, everyone's okay now and isn't that what really matters? And, there weren't any ghosts this time, or squirrels." Hanna thought maybe he could distract the irate doctor with the things he'd managed to avoid lately.

Worth would not be placated that easily. "True, there weren't any damned ghosts this time. _Instead_ I got to deal with half the skin missing from your fucking arms and legs! How the _fuck_ didja manage that? Did the girl make you wrestle with a goddamned cheesegrater!?" He snapped as he jabbed a finger at Hanna's bandaged arms.

"She, uh, kinda bound me to her chair with magic and it was kinda cool cause my skin was wood and the wood was my skin at parts but I didn't think it was as strong as it was so when I tried to undo myself once I didn't exactly do it right." Hanna grinned sheepishly. Oops. He forgot he did that to himself.

Dark eyes just stared at him for a moment. Then Worth proceeded to smack himself in the forehead with his palm, grumbling all the while. "You _dumbass_ ," He muttered, but it was a bit calmer than before. "What the fuck am I gonna do w' you, huh?" With those words he began to check Hanna over, not exactly gently but there was notably less manhandling than usual. "I'd better na' _ever_ have to deal with this shit again, you got me? Next time you run into a fucking demon brat from hell, you find some _other_ way to placate her sorry ass."

The zombie, whom had been watching this all in silence from the doorway, shook his head and turned away so Worth and Hanna couldn't see another smile coming to his face. Acting mad was the equivalent of Worth offering affection, and if his rants were any indication, he had _of course_ been more worried than he'd let on. The undead man had no reason to worry, if Worth was that mad there was no way in hell Hanna wasn't going to make it through.

"Yeah, alright-owowowowow!" Hanna didn't appreciate Worth examining his arms, which stung to the touch, even under the bandages. Having no skin on the back of your arms wasn't fun, at all. 

"Now that the idiot's awake, I'm going back home before dawn." Conrad said, beginning for the door. He didn't seem too terribly grumpy, though, and this brought a smile to Hanna's face, which Conrad scowled at. Hanna knew better than to let the scowl fool him. He knew Conrad was glad he was okay, before the mask of irritation. And Conrad knew better than to think Hanna was really stupid enough to not know, but he scowled at Hanna all the same before turning to leave. 

And he stopped as he nearly stepped on a clean brown envelope that was apparently slipped under the door at some point in the night. He knew that much because, for one, it was clean, and two, there was a tiny note written on the front of the package where an address might have been. 

_"Worth - Thank you._

_~L."_

Conrad held the package up, wondering what in hell's god damn name would be in this package that Worth would like. It could've been from Lamont, but the man usually made his deliveries personal. 

"Hey, Conrad, what's that?" Hanna leaned forward to see past Worth at what Conrad had in his hands.

Before Conrad could answer, Worth stomped over. "Gimme that, princess," He growled as he snatched the package out of the vampire's hands. He then waves it violently in the air, the envelope flopping slightly to punctuate his next rant. "Didn' yet damn mom teach ya not ta' go through people's mail? It's not polite, Christ!" With those words he tore open then envelope, grumbling all the while. This grumbled trailed off into silence, however, as he actually got a look at the contents of the envelope. His cigarette nearly dropped from his mouth as he stared at it before his lips spread into a terrifying grin.

"Well, well, well..." He murmured as he closed the envelope and tucked it into his back pocket. "Whatdya know. Rescuin' little brats does in fact pay off. I'm thinkin' we may have t' keep those two around, if only to make up for all the bills a certain _someone_ hasn't paid." Dark eyes went to Hanna as he spoke, making it abundantly clear just who he was talking about.

"Wait, wait, what's in the envelope?" Hanna asked, still too weak to get off the couch but strong enough to be incredibly curious. "Who's it from?"

"Larden, I assume?" The zombie spoke up, as while he trusted Worth he'd still chosen to remain in the room for a bit.

The doctor shrugged. "Larden, Legolas, whatever-the-fuck ya wanna call him. He promised he'd pay and fer once I got fuckin' paid, isn't that all that matters?"

"You got paid?" Hanna seemed rather excited. 

"Maybe you can hire a maid now to scrub the shit from your floor." Conrad commented, crossing his arms.

Worth outright laughed at this. " _Fuck no_. I appreciate m' healthy layer of grime, thanks. Besides Connie, as much as I know you're _dying_ for me t' offer you a job that involves you gettin' down on your knees in a dress on m' floor, it ain't gonna happen. I dun swing that way, especially fer your tight little ass. Sorry t' ruin your fantasies," He sneered, flashing Conrad a terrible grin.

Conrad balked at him for a moment, before his face turned into one of total rage. "I didn't mean me you sick fuck!" He snapped. Without anything else to add, and realizing that _fuck_ , he was going to have to run if he wanted to get home before dawn, he left, slamming the door as hard as he could on the way out.

The doctor watched him leave, snickering all the while. He then glanced back to see the zombie staring at him. "What? It's been a shitty couple of days. Gotta get my kicks somehow," He shrugged as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

Those orange eyes stared at him for another moment, then the zombie shrugged as well. "I'm going to try to find something edible to feed Hanna. Do you mind?"

Worth shook his head as he flopped into a chair. "Whatever. Jus' this once I dun' care, but if you touch my beer I will fucking kill you again, ya got me?" He said, gesturing lazily to the hallway where the stairs to his kitchen led.

The zombie raised a brow, amusement in his eyes as he glanced to Hanna. "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Don't worry about me, Spock. I'll be alright." Hanna smiled, and his words not only held a promise for the next few minutes, but for the recovery in general. He'd be alright.

His friend heard the words and nodded, another smile coming to his face as he turned and made his way down the grimy hallway, ignoring Worth's continued growls and the chaos that was likely to resume. It was mildly worrisome as always and of course Hanna wasn't okay just yet... but Worth yelling, Conrad getting annoyed, they were all small pieces of normalcy that had been missing over the past few days. Hearing them now and after the exchange that had just happened, the zombie had to believe that Hanna was telling the truth.

He would be alright.

\---

She missed him.

Lenore's days spent at the hospital had been restful enough. She'd been given everything she needed, given whatever she asked, and the doctors were always friendly and did their best to be gentle whenever she was awake and they were poking and prodding. No one had said a word about the new marks that covered most her upper body, and she was sure that had something to do with Larden. She was sure most of it had something to do with Larden. The nurses had mentioned "her nice older brother" through a series of girlish giggles and mentioned things like him signing all the papers and visiting when she'd been asleep, but she herself hadn't seen him.

It was good to be cared for and she was glad to be healing, but she missed him.

It was this that made Lenore so eager to leave... well, that and the fact that she'd never been terribly good at sitting still for days on end. Fortunately, after a few days she was declared healthy enough to leave and was discharged with a few smiles and a wheel-chair wheeled out the door.

Now she stood there just outside the hospital, her golden eyes squinting out into the night. The soft, warm lights of the hospital shown out into the parking lot, casting all sorts of shadows. These things did little to dim the stars, which glittered above in a blanket of black and sparkling points of light. It was very pretty, but the night itself felt rather cold. The ten-year old swallowed as she hugged her bandaged arms around herself, her new black dress fluttering in the night breeze.

They'd let her out... so that meant he had to be waiting here. He wouldn't have just her alone... right?

She hadn't seen the bike-rack, nor the figure leaning solemnly on it. Larden was watching the stars roll by, arms crossed on the rack's surface, not looking anywhere but up. 

After making sure Lenore was cared for, and Worth was paid off, he had gone back to the house. It was gone. Literally, all gone. He visited at night, and managed to pick through the rubble himself, finding a charred picture of the family here, a runny painting there. He picked a few things that weren't entirely blackened in the blaze out and took them away, packing them in a suitcase he bought at a local store. Also inside the suitcase were a few new dresses for Lenore (and other womanly things like bras and such, ohgod Larden did not like shopping in the lady's section anymore) and his old red vest. He had bought himself a large tattered black sweater from a local thrift shop just for the hell of it, which he was now wearing. Just for the sake of wearing something different - moving on. 

The suitcase sat to his right, black and sleek yet plump and slightly scuffed from his moving it around. On top sat one of Lenore's stuffed animals that he managed to retrieve from the blaze. 

He watched the sky with a sad smile on his face. He couldn't help her. He couldn't help her when she needed him to depend on, he couldn't save her from the fire. He lost her for a time, and he was scared that he would lose her again. He wanted to move forward, but he didn't know how. 

He did know one thing - he missed her. He'd been told she'd been awake when he wasn't there, when he was out running errands and making sure she had a bed to come home to. He cared too much and was gone too much and he hadn't really seen her once. 

He wondered if she was the same girl he knew before. With the thought his head drooped from the stars, his bangs falling over his eyes, and if he could shed tears he would've been crying.

Golden eyes looked from the parking lot to the bike rack, and that's when Lenore finally spotted him. His back was to her and he was wearing a new sweater, but she would recognize those ears and that ponytail anywhere. If there was any doubt, there was a very familiar stuffed crow sitting on that suitcase. No amount of scorch marks could have changed the fact that it was hers.

"Larden!" The dark-haired girl called out. She immediately broke into a run, her footsteps echoing through the empty parking lot. She slowed to a stop roughly ten feet from the vampire, panting for a moment as she reached up to brush her hair out of her eyes. Apparently "discharged" hadn't necessarily meant "let's go for a brisk jog!".

Once she came to a stop, Lenore simply stood there, feeling at loss for what to say. She wanted so badly to close the distance, to run those last few feet and just collapse and hug him like always, to hear those same whispered promises that everything was going to be okay, but she couldn't. Not yet.

She wanted things to be like before, but of course they couldn't be. The burns flaring up from underneath those bandages were a painful remainder of that.

And so she stood there as she caught her breath, struggling to find words. Finally she managed to pull on the smile she'd always managed to pull on in school, the one that seemed charming and innocent and was always available at a moment's notice. "I'm... I'm glad to see you made it out okay. And Arma did too, apparently. T-thanks for saving her." She managed to keep a relatively calm tone, but the slight stutter at the end gave a bit of it all away.

What was she supposed to do now?

Larden turned, smiling softly. He didn't move to Lenore, but he did bend down to pick up the suitcase and the stuffed bird.

" _Guten abend_ , Lenore." He bent down on one knee, setting the stuffed bird under his arm and opening the suitcase. "The house... is, well, vanished. I did... save Arma, and... well, I don't know if you want to save this anymore." He murmured, pulling out a charred photograph. It was of her and her parents and Larden when she was a child. He took an unneeded breath as he stared at the photograph for a moment. 

"I... I must confess something, Lenore. When you were a still so young... I lied. To you and _ihr mutter_. He hurt me, and I didn't tell you. I didn't know what you'd think of your father... I didn't know what you'd think of me. I should have told you the truth early on, but you loved him so much, I... I couldn't." Larden felt his grip on Arma tighten a bit as he snapped the suitcase closed. "I don't know what you think of me now. I couldn't help you when you needed me, for bad, or for good." He sat down on the ground, Arma and the photo in his lap. He continued in a small voice, absorbed in the photo and the doll. "I don't know what I think of myself, to be Fred... er, to be truthful. I... for a while, I didn't know ...if you were able to be helped. I thought you'd... you'd become your father, and I didn't know how to get you back. I was.... I was scared, Lenore." He nearly crumpled the photo in his hands, which were shaking. "I was terrified that I'd failed you. That I'd failed your mother. She said I was to take care of you. Always. I didn't...."

Larden couldn't finish his sentence. He felt so vulnerable in front of Lenore, when in the past he'd tried to avoid setting himself up like that in front of her. In the moonlight, bent over a doll and a photo, he looked old. He looked worn out. He looked miserable.

Golden eyes widened as they stared down at Larden. She simply stood in silence for a bit, watching. Then she took a few steps forward and knelt down in front of the vampire, her black dress pooling around her knees and protecting them from the cold of the concrete. "Larden... what are you talking about?" She asked. Bandages fingers reached out to take the vampire's shaking hands, nearly hiding the photo of her parents from view.

The ten-year old flashed a soft, sad smile. "Lar-Lar... why are _you_ apologizing? Even know... you idiot, you didn't do anything wrong. You did everything you could... and even now, you're bringing me all this?" She shook her head as she let her arms drop, folding her hands in her lap. "I don't deserve you. I don't deserve any of this."

She took a deep, shaky breath, closing her eyes. "I... if anyone should be apologizing, it's me. I know that now. I did... a lot of awful things. I just... I wanted to hurt people, I don't know. He was gone and I wanted people to understand how I felt, to understand what he taught me... so I did things. Terrible things. Unforgivable things, and my father was the same. He... no, _I_ excused them with a lot of stupid ideas about it making us better, used things like my position and my talents. I used my parents deaths as an excuse for my actions... but it was wrong, all of it. There is no excuse, because we were wrong."

Those bandaged fingers gently worked across Larden's coaxing them to release their death grip on the photo so she could take it. "Daddy... my father, he was _wrong_ , Larden. I should have realized that. I'm the top of my class, how could I be that _stupid_?" She gave a bitter laugh here as her grip twisted around the battered photo. "You were hurting. You were hurting all that time. He was hurting you, and you were just trying to protect my mother and I by not saying anything. And then when he was gone, I hurt you too. I... I became just like you said I was."

Lenore paused here, her throat was tightening and she was finding it hard to breathe. She blinked, trying to clear the tears that were welling up in her eyes as she looked back to Larden. "I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I didn't realize. It's no excuse for how I treated you and everyone else, there _isn't_ any excuse for that. I just... I don't know why... I just couldn't stop, I couldn't let him down, but he was wrong. It was all wrong and I..." She trailed off, shoulders shaking as she swallowed a sob. She would not break down. She had no right to break down.

So she didn't. She blinked back the tears and forced her head up, clenched her teeth to try to keep her jaw steady. Shaking fingers reached out to force Larden to look her in the eye. "I'm sorry, Larden. I know my words can't change anything, it can't fix all the ways I hurt you and it can't change all the things he did and it can't change all the stupid lies I followed so blindly, but it's all I have. I have no right to even have you anymore, and I won't ask for that. But I will say this."

"You have never failed me, Larden. Don't you ever, _ever_ think that."

There was a seconds pause, and Larden quite suddenly threw his arms around Lenore. If he could have cried, he would have _sobbed_. Good and hard and long because Lenore was the girl he knew again. She was the same girl that knew better than to hurt people, the smart girl, the girl he'd tried to coax out of her shell for so long, out from under the thumb of her father and he really wished he could cry because his lungs ached with the dry sobs they were trying to produce even without tears. He hugged her and then pulled away to kiss her forehead before hugging her again. 

" _Mein Gott, Lenore, mein Gott, sorge ich mich nicht, dass Sie mich verletzen, wusste ich, dass Sie es nicht meinten, ich bin gerade so froh, dass Sie ganz richtig sind und Sie bedauern und Sie nicht Ihr Vater sind, und sagen Sie bitte nicht, dass Sie mich nicht verdienen, weil das bedeuten würde, dass wir einzeln sind, und ich weiß, dass wir wie das beide jämmerlich sein würden._ " The German was rapid and in a soft, shaking voice. "I'm just glad you're alright, and here, and _mein gott_ , please don't say you don't deserve me. Because that means you won't stay."

Lenore's eyes widened in shock as those familiar arms pulled her close. Sure he wasn't warm and the new sweater smelled a bit strange but this was it. This was her Larden and this was where she belonged. A small, strangled sort of whimper came from her throat as her bandaged hands came up to clutch at the new sweater, as familiar, comforting German filled her ears and she was brought back to times when the biggest problem had been something as ridiculous as a skinned knee.

The dark-haired girl took a deep breath, then buried her face in the woven material of the sweater, savoring the mixture of Larden's familiar scent and the new. "I'm not going anywhere," She spoke, and thought she was struggling to stay strong her voice was cracking, the tears were coming and she was having trouble fighting them back. "Why would I go anywhere? You're all I have, Larden. You're _everything_."

Larden put a hand on Lenore's hair and stroked it softly. "I don't know, Lenore, I don't know, I just don't want you to be gone. I want you to be Lenore, the Lenore I know. The Lenore who's knees I bandaged and who's dolls I fixed. The Lenore who I climbed trees with. The smart and talented girl who was first and foremost my friend. I've got her back now and I don't want her to go." Larden held the girl close, wrapping himself tightly around her and pulling her into his lap. " _Ich liebe Sie_... you're my family, Lenore. You're my family here."

Lenore was shaking as Larden spoke, simply listening as she curled up close. She wanted to say something but she couldn't seem to think beyond those fingers stroking through her hair or choke anything past the lump in her throat. Finally, however, she did manage something. "I... you're my family too."

Apparently that was the breaking point. The ten-year old let out a soft, broken sob as her bandaged fingers twisted at the cloth in her hands, tears streaming down her permanently marked face. There were no more words and apologies, merely an outpouring of emotion that had remained bottled up for an impossibly long time. There was so much still to do and understand, so much to deal with, so much pain she'd bottled up and confusion and anger at everything that had happened. She knew it was stupid and she wasn't the type to cry but she was just so relieved that Larden was okay and she had him back and he had forgiven her and oh things were most certainly not okay and she still had so much to work through and _God_ she didn't even know where to start. It was stupid to cry because she was strong...

But if only Larden saw her when she was weak, she supposed that was okay.

Larden simply held her, glad the girl he once knew was back in his arms. He whispered things in her ear, soothing words in German and in English, various forms of "it'll be alright" and other things. Eventually, he stood, lifting her into his arms with him, having grabbed Arma and the photo in his free hand before looping his arm through the sutcase handle. He was heading away from the hospital and towards the part of the city where Conrad lived, the artsy part, where he'd rented an apartment for them to stay in.

Lenore's sobs began to quiet as Larden walked, slowly dwindling until finally all that was left was the smallest of sniffles. "Lar-Lar," She finally spoke after a block or so of companionable silence. "What does _'Ich liebe Sie'_ mean?" She asked, completely mangling the pronunciation.

Larden held Lenore close, smiling brightly and kissing the girl's forehead again affectionately. 

" _Ich liebe Sie_ means... I love you."


	12. Chapter 12

It was a calm, cool night. It didn't have to be for Hanna. He would've been just as excited if it were pouring down buckets of rain or if it were raining knives and whipped cream. The weather was just one of those things that added the metaphorical cherry to the not-so-metaphorical sundae that Hanna was going to have.   
  
"Ohman I am _so pumped_ for this it's going to be awesome and there's free ice cream and everyone's going to be there!" Hanna had been on a ramble about the current situation since he was invited. Conrad, trailing behind him, had stopped listening long ago. Yes, he had been invited, too. Even though he couldn't eat ice cream.   
  
"Yes Hanna. And maybe there'll also be sprinkles and princesses and unicorns shittin' rainbows and everythin' else magical and wonderful for you girls to enjoy," Worth said as he sauntered along beside Conrad, making a point of rather cheerily elbowing the vampire in the ribs as he spoke so Conrad could be _sure_ that the 'girls' bit was partially in reference to him. His fur-lined leather jacket smelled nearly as terrible as his coat, which was really his main purpose for keeping such close proximity. No sense in putting forth _too_ much effort to be obnoxious when he could manage it naturally.  
  
Hanna's zombie friend shook his head as he trailed along behind the rest of the group, hands in his pockets as he watched Hanna flail excitedly up ahead. This was the first time they'd really been out since Hanna's rescue, and the redhead was largely recovered. Still, if Hanna could refrain from flailing about _too_ much... well, that was probably just wishful thinking.  
  
"Dude that would be EPIC if there were unicorns there, even though I bet they don't like Ice cream, but we could fix them apples or something and put whipped cream on that and make it like a vegetarian sundae! With sprinkles!" Hanna cheered.  
  
"Why are you even here?" Conrad asked Worth, as Hanna turned to walk backwards and discuss the merits of making an apple-whipped-cream-sundae for unicorns instead of giving them carrots or apple flavored ice cream.  
  
Worth smirked at Conrad's comment. "For your information, Clarice, I was _invited_ , and it'd be rude to ignore an invitation!" The doctor paused at this comment, brow furrowing as he seemed to contemplate what he had just said. "...actually, now t' ya mention it, 's a good question." He shrugged as he reached up to adjust his ever present cigarette. "Eh, whatever. I dun even really like ice cream tha' much, but I'll take the opportunity iffin' it means I can eat it in front of ya."  
  
"Bastard." Conrad replied. The ice cream place they had been instructed to go to was looming ahead, and Hanna managed to trip on the curb in his turn around to see it. He scrambled to his feet, giving everyone a thumbs up, and ran to the front of the shop, hyperactivity on two feet.  
  
Hanna's zombie friend blinked in surprise as Hanna quite suddenly tumbled, then shook his head. He could only hope the ice cream parlor would be a bit safer.  
  
The ringing of a small bell signified the group entering the shop. "Oh, good, you're here!" Lenore exclaimed from across the room. She immediately hopped up from one of the tables and rushed over to them, black dress fluttering around her knees. She skidded to a stop before Hanna and clapped her hands together, a wide grin coming to her face. "Oh, I'm so glad you could make it, Mr. Cross! Thank you so, so much for coming!"  
  
"You know I wouldn't miss ice cream for the world - Heyyyy Larden!" Hanna waved to the vampire contentedly sitting in the round booth at the back of the shop, who was waving lightly.   
  
Conrad found himself observing the fact that the place was pretty damn empty in order to avoid looking at Lenore, because he'd glare at her if he did.  
  
The zombie, meanwhile, refused to take his eyes off of Lenore. He trusted Larden and he supposed if the vampire was all the way across the room there was a chance things were fine, but he couldn't help but feel suspicious. And of course, the alarm bells went off in his head as soon as Lenore grabbed Hanna's wrist and started dragging him toward the booth in question.   
  
"Come on, come ooon! You gotta sit down so we can order!" The ten-year old exclaimed. The zombie's first instinct was to stop them, but he stayed back for the moment. Technically, nothing had gone wrong yet.  
  
Hanna followed, laughing. "C'mon, Shakespeare!" He urged, waving them all forward even at the brisk trot he was following Lenore with. Larden stood up and stepped out of the booth, letting them slide in as far as they could go.   
  
Conrad approached the booth and hovered by it, frowning. He couldn't _eat_ ice cream, this was pointless.  
  
The zombie watched them all wander toward the booth, then glanced to his side. Worth stood in uncharacteristic silence, simply watching Hanna and Lenore interact. "Er... Worth?"  
  
Dark eyes blinked and the doctor shook his head as he tossed the last bit of his cigarette aside, stomping it into the rather nice linoleum floor before following after Hanna with a grumbled something or other. "Outta the way, Fagula," He grunted as he elbowed Conrad aside, then flopped into the other side of the booth. He then proceeded to prop his elbows on the table, threading his long, greasy fingers together as he looked at Lenore.  
  
"So," He began flatly. " _You're_ the little brat who caused t' whole Goddamn mess."  
  
Golden eyes blinked in surprise and Lenore turned from her happy babbling with Hanna to face the doctor. Then a wide, somewhat nervous grin came to her face. "Ah, _yes_. I'm really sorry about that, mister..."  
  
"Worth," The doctor said, still glaring. "And I saved your sorry ass."  
  
The dark-haired girl raised a brow at this. "Is that so? _I_ heard that all you did was drive a really, _really_ disgusting van and complain," She chirped as she cocked her head to the side. She was trying to be apologetic, she really was, but she couldn't help herself.  
  
Worth's eyes narrowed dangerously. "'Scuse me? Are you _insulting_ m' baby?"  
  
Lenore giggled. "No, no, of course not. Although I wouldn't be surprised if the van was disgusting. I mean, look at you! What is that fur even from? You smell too, I bet--"  
  
In one swift movement, Worth snatched a plastic spoon from the container on the table. He then reached across the table and whacked Lenore rather solidly on the forehead with it.  
  
" _OUCH_!" Lenore yelped.   
  
" _That_ was for makin' fun o' my baby!" Worth snarled before rapping her on the forehead again. "And that was for all the gayass shit you pulled!"  
  
"Ow! H-hey, stop that!" Newly marked hands flew up to clutch at her now red forehead as Lenore glared at Worth, her lower lip poking outward in a pout. "That's not fair, you can't do that!"  
  
The doctor scowled as he jabbed the spoon in Lenore's direction. "Wanna bet? You better be glad you're not getting it as bad as you _deserve_ , bitch!" He growled out, yellowed teeth pulled back into a snarl.  
  
Larden, who had slipped in beside Hanna, reached over and put a hand on Lenore's shoulder. Instead of a comforting look, however, he looked almost motherly.  
  
"Lenore, _manners_." Larden's tone insisted she knew better. With that, he slipped back out of the booth, realizing that the zombie might appreciate the seat next to Hanna. He then approached Conrad.   
  
"What?" Conrad frowned at the other vampire, who was watching him with an almost apologetic grin.   
  
"Oh, ah, I have this for you. If-if they ask, you are... ack, what was it?" Larden wracked his brain for a moment. "Ah, yes, if they ask you have intolerance to lactose." He nodded, before pulling something from the small bag he kept over his shoulder. Conrad mused that it looked like a god damn purse but said nothing as a popsicle shaped object was offered to him.   
  
"What _is_ it?" Conrad took the thing and stared at it, relatively confused. He couldn't eat those either, or at least he thought he shouldn't. Popsicles were normal food.   
  
"Blood. In... carefully frozen form." Larden smiled, pulling out one for himself. "I... thought it would be rude to invite you and... well, have you left out."  
  
Conrad furrowed his brows at the odd show of kindness from the ex-kidnappers, very confused. He then turned his confused gaze to the popsicle as he unwrapped it and carefully gave it a lick. The taste brought a suprised smile to his face.   
  
The zombie shook his head, simply watching everyone as he slid into the booth. With Lenore's blush and mumbled apologies, as well as enough excitement to rival Hanna when she wasn't bantering with Worth, she seemed almost normal. Worth had settled for lounging in the booth after his initial assault, seemingly taking quite a bit of glee in smoking directly under the "no smoking" sign. Between these things and Conrad and Larden enjoying their popsicles, things seemed... rather comfortable for a group that had been at odds days before.  
  
He couldn't help but feel like it had something to do with Hanna, and his orange eyes went to the redhead in question. Maybe Hanna just had that sort of effect on people.  
  
It was then that the waitress showed up, her smile dwindling slightly as her eyes fell upon Worth. "Uh, sir--"  
  
Worth glared at her.  
  
Before the waitress could choke out a protest against Worth's blatant disregard of the rules, Lenore spoke up. "Ma'am, I'd like to order a hot fudge and marshmellow sundae, please!" She exclaimed. She then looked to the rest of the group and beamed. "Go on, order whatever you'd like! It's my treat!"  
  
"You have that one that's like Choco-Monkey something?" Hanna asked. "It's that one with the bananas and the peanuts and the chocolate?"  
  
His grin widened when the waitress finally nodded, understanding. He then glanced around the table. Conrad and Larden were already enjoying what looked like popsicles - he hadn't noticed those before, those looked cool, he wondered what was in them - Lenore had ordered, the zombie couldn't eat, so that swung his vision over to Worth. He watched him expectantly.  
  
Worth glanced to the waitress and frowned. Then he shrugged. "Eh. Gimme somethin' dipped in chocolate. I really don't give a fuck what is is," He said, waving a hand nonchalantly in the air.   
  
The waitress's brow furrowed. "But I--"  
  
"Surprise me, okay?" Worth said as he took a long drag of his cigarette. After breathing out the stream of smoke he glanced over to the see the waitress still standing there. "Well, go on!"  
  
The waitress let out a huff, then walked away, grumbling something unpleasant under her breath.  
  
Lenore snickered as she watched the waitress leave, looking to Worth. "Wow, you really _are_ a jerk. What happened to manners?"  
  
"What about m' fuckin' manners? I personally think my manners are _fantastic_ , thank you very much," Worth drawled as he glared across the table at her. Lenore just smirked back, which prompted the blond to scowl and jab a finger in her direction. "You listen here brat, 'M old enough to decide to not give a fuck. Little brats like you dun get tha' luxury."  
  
The dark-haired girl blinked at this. "So when I grow up, I'm allowed to be like you?"   
  
Larden couldn't help the squeak of a 'nein' that left him, and he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, embarrassed.  
  
Upon catching Larden's squeak, a terrible grin came across Worth's face. "Well... we'll see. It does take talent, but I suppose I could see potential in ya. You're already a proper, class A bitch n' all."  
  
"S-stop calling me that, I'm working on it!" Lenore huffed, folding her arms. She then looked to Hanna, that same slightly nervous smile coming to her face. "Actually, um, I really wanted to apologize for that... that's what this is for, obviously. For all of you, but especially you, Mr. Cross. It's meant to be an apology, but it's also meant to be a thank you."  
  
Her golden eyes went to her lap as she continued to speak, fidgeting absently with a napkin in her lap. "You all taught me... an awful lot. I didn't realize what I was doing was wrong until I met you all. I... I know I did some awful things, and I'm truly sorry. But thank you... for showing me that I was wrong. Thank you for teaching me that there's so much more to people like you than what I was taught. Thank you for saving me."  
  
Hanna flushed. He thought this was just free ice cream. "You're welcome?" He grinned. "But I mean, I kinda fucked you up and all, sealing your magic and burning your house down. And, you knew vampires were cool even before us! You were bros with him," here, a finger pointed at Larden, who quirked an eyebrow, "which means you had to know he was awesome somewhere. And, I couldn't've helped unless you wanted it, ya know?"  
  
The dark-haired girl gave a small laugh. "Maybe, but even so. I... I think I _knew_ I was wrong, I just didn't want to believe it. I idolized my father too much.. I had to do a lot of thinking while I was in the hospital, though, and... well, I was wrong. And it was really all my fault, I'm the one who set the house on fire and made it so you had to seal my magic in the first place." With those words she looked to Hanna again and smiled.  
  
"Actually, that's another reason I called you here. I wanted to ask you something." With those words she held up her hands, showing off the spider-web like markings, crisp and black against her skin now that most of the burning had faded. "I know I can't take these off, and I don't want to. However, I am aware there is a way to work past the seal and essentially learn magic normally. I've... never done that, but I'd like to learn. I want my magic back so I can be like you, Mr. Cross. I want to help people."  
  
With those words she dropped her hands, flashing that nervous smile again. "So, um... do you think you could teach me? I understand if you don't want to, but I promise to not do anything bad with it. I'll pay you whatever you want and help you however I can, even if you choose not to teach me."  
  
"I guess, I mean I'd teach you if you want though I'm not exactly really good at it, you probably know - waitwaitwait, _ohmygod_ , does this mean I get an apprentice?" Hanna suddenly looked too delighted.   
  
"Hanna, you sure it's a good idea to teach her?" Conrad asked, over the table.   
  
"Oh _yeah_ she's totally good now so it's not like anything can go wrong!"  
  
Lenore's eyes seemed to light up. "Yes, that's right! Oh, thank you Mr. Cross!" She exclaimed before quite suddenly reaching over and pulling Hanna into a hug.  
  
The zombie arched a brow at this, watching Lenore babble happily. He had to admit, he agreed with Conrad's suspicion, and he felt mildly uncomfortable with Lenore so close to Hanna. Sure, the redhead trusted her, but Hanna was known for being a bit _too_ trusting. On the other hand, some of the people Hanna gave chances to honestly deserved it, and Larden seemed fine enough. He did not trust Lenore yet, but he trusted Hanna and he trusted Larden.  
  
He supposed between that and keeping a close eye on everything, he could make do.  
  
"'Ey, hey, hold t' phone!" Worth spoke up, holding up one hand and glaring at Hanna. "You're seriously gonna accept that? She kind of nearly _killed_ your ass. I get you think she's good an' all, and more power to your gay 'oh everyone has sunshine and rainbows inside' shtick, but the rest of us ain't quite as forgiving as you."  
  
"Yeah, but she didn't!" Hanna exclaimed. "She could've offed me a lotta times back there and she didn't!"   
  
"And... I promise to keep good eyes on her." Larden spoke up from the end of the table.   
  
"Yeah, he _promises_ , Worth." Hanna accepted this as about the best counter to Worth's argument yet.   
  
The doctor pretty much ignored Hanna. His eyes had gone to Lenore and he was glaring at her again, looking for all the world as if he very well could cause her to spontaneously combust if he tried hard enough. Lenore glared right back, still clinging to Hanna. Finally, Worth spoke again. "Tha' magic o' yours was pretty damn powerful, right?"  
  
Lenore beamed as she released Hanna, holding her chin up high. "That's right! I mean, I doubt when I get it back it'll be quite as strong, but even so."  
  
The blond nodded, seeming thoughtful for a moment. Then he gave a shrug. "Tell ya what. 'Mont could probably use someone out there keeping him from getting his ass killed and I could use a little brat to boss around. You and Legolas," Here he paused to nod at Larden. "help out for a bit and we'll call it even."  
  
Lenore blinked. "W-wait, you mean work for you? But you're..." She trailed off, wrinkling her nose. " _Gross_."  
  
Worth hit her with the spoon again.  
  
"Ow!" The dark-haired girl yelped, clutching at her forehead again. After sitting there for a few moments, whimpering, she gave a nod. "That... that sounds... _great_. W-what do you think, Lar-Lar?" She asked as she looked to Larden.  
  
"Please tell me this fellow is less terrifying than you." Larden asked meekly.   
  
"If you're spending time with Lamont, or, hell, any of us, you're spending time with Worth." Conrad supplied. He tried to hide the fact that he felt a lot less of a failure of a vampire around Larden, considering the man's apparent fear of Worth.   
  
Unbeknownst to him, he had smiled, and Hanna had made a mental tally on Conrad's smile chart.   
  
"You two can work with Lamont and then when he drops by I can come over, if I'm not already there even though I probably will be but whatever, but then I can teach you a few things and we can go out for ice cream on the weekends if I don't have a case and that'll just be SO. AWESOME." It was easy to tell how excited Hanna was about this.   
  
Lenore nodded enthusiastically, clapping her hands together. "Yeah, exactly! A-and you can teach me stuff and we can get ice cream and I can help you and and I can buy you things if you want and this will be great!"  
  
Sitting next to Lenore and Hanna, the zombie honestly wasn't sure who seemed more excited about the whole idea. For the moment, they both appeared to be equally excited children. Except for the tiny detail that Hanna was twenty-four, but whatever.  
  
Worth rolled his eyes at the two of them as he flopped back in the booth. "Stop actin' so fuckin' cheery about the whole idea, 's not gonna be a walk in the park. And I'd _better_ not have to deal with either of you poppin' up at my doorstep whining that somethin' blew up in your face, 's not my problem."  
  
Lenore huffed as she turned to him, folding her arms. "Oh, shush, you're mean. Hanna and I aren't that bad!"  
  
The doctor outright laughed at that. "Kid, obviously you don't know Hanna. He's a walkin' disaster, for t' record. Not sure why you wanted to kidnap him."  
  
"He is not!" Lenore exclaimed. "And besides, you don't know anything about me! You're just mean!" She added, sticking out her tongue.  
  
Again came the whack with the spoon. Worth snickered as he twirled the plastic weapon in the air and watched Lenore squirm. "Y'know, I could get used t' this. I kinda like you, brat."  
  
"Y-yeah, well, you're just mean! _Mean_!" Lenore whimpered as she clutched at her head.  
  
From across the table, Hanna's zombie friend had to wonder if Worth genuinely liked Lenore or just liked hitting her with the spoon. He was just hoping the doctor wouldn't get any brilliant ideas to use the horrors of The Spoon on anyone else, like Conrad.  
  
This, much like his wishes that Hanna would be more careful, was well-acknowledged to be wishful thinking.  
  
It was around this point that the waitress returned with everyone's ice cream and began to pass things out. Lenore forgot her pain in favor of the ice cream and beamed as she took her sundae and grabbed a spoon. "Ooh, yay!"  
  
Hanna was suddenly very absorbed in his icecream. "Ohyeah getting ice cream every day after work and then teaching you things and helping people and _man_ I don't think this could get any more awesome!" Hanna quite suddenly paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. "OHOHOH and you can help me think of names for Ludo! And we can help feed Larden like we help feed Conrad,"  
  
At this both vampires looked very panicked, Conrad more near to killing Hanna than the other,  
  
"and we can take day trips to the park and it's like I'm gonna get a little sister or something!"  
  
And Conrad didn't attempt to muffle or quiet the resigned "oh _hell_ no" at the idea of Hanna having a sibling. It wasn't like they needed more of him.   
  
Hanna's zombie friend looked equally concerned. He could barely handle one Hanna, he wasn't sure how he was going to handle a ten-year old girl adding mischief to the mix. He supposed there was Larden as well, but even so.  
  
But Lenore was nodding excitedly and suggesting her own things. "Haha, yeah! And it's like I'm getting a big brother or something! Ooh, ooh, that means Lar-lar and I will have to show you all our favorite horror movies and he'll have to tell you all of our stories and we'll have to go on adventures and it'll be the _best_!"  
  
Worth let out a groan as he licked absently at his chocolate-covered cone. "Christ. It's like girl talk twenty-four seven w' you people. Throw Connie in there and you could do the music video for Girls Just Wanna Have Fun or whatever." He muttered.  
  
"We could have horror movie weekends at Conrad's!" Hanna nodded excitedly, his ice cream not hindering him at all.   
  
"Oh no you're not!" Conrad countered. "If you want to have movie nights you're having them where they live, not where I live!"  
  
Lenore giggled as she took a bite of ice cream. "That's just fine! We can invite you too, Connie, since you live down the street!" She declared as she pointed her empty spoon in his direction.  
  
Worth blinked as he absorbed this information. Then he grinned, glancing in Conrad's direction. "Well, how 'bout that. Didja know you were neighbors with a former psychopath, Alice?"  
  
Conrad gaped at them, and was about to snap something unpleasant, but Hanna spoke first.   
  
"Ohman we could TOTALLY have all night movie marathons with everyone!" Hanna cheered. "And then we could crash at Connie's if we needed!"  
  
"Hanna, what did I just say?" Conrad snapped. "Not at my apartment!"  
  
"Oooh, that sounds great!" Lenore cheered enthusiastically, completely ignoring Conrad's rage.  
  
As Lenore and Hanna babbled happily about movie nights and lesson plans, Conrad raved and Worth snickered and put in the occasional snarky remark, Hanna's zombie friend just sat watching it all. Suffice to say, it was a tad strange to see how relatively well they were all getting along with someone who had recently nearly killed them all. Then again, he supposed Hanna had always been rather strange and wasn't exactly the type to hold a grudge.  
  
And if Hanna was so willing to forgive, well, who were the rest of them to go against that?  
  
So they all sat and had ice cream and there was the standard bickering and laughter and really it was all relatively normal for Hanna and his friends. Toward the end, however, Lenore fell silent as she stared down at her ice cream, lost in thought.  
  
"You know," She commented as she cocked her head to the side, a small, peaceful smile coming to her face. "I think this is the first time I've ever had ice cream with any friends besides Larden. It's... nice."  
  
"We should do this more often, then." Hanna replied, spoon hanging out of his mouth. "And you can invite your friends and we can bring Veser next time and everyone! It'll be a huge party!"  
  
He didn't notice Larden visibly tense at the subject of Lenore's other friends. Conrad sort of looked on, eyebrow raised.   
  
Lenore frowned slightly at this thought. After a moment, however, she gave a small laugh and nodded. "Maybe I will, who knows? It could be fun." Sure, she didn't have any other friends yet. But hey, she seemed to be managing with these well enough, and Larden had said she could do anything she set her mind to.  
  
Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.  
  
"Fun at _someone else's apartment_." Conrad added, frowning.   
  
"Everyone can come over to our place, it is perfectly fine." Larden pat Conrad on the shoulder softly, standing up from his seat at the end of the table. "Now, Lenore, I think it best we return home soon. I believe you have homework, I know I do," Larden chuckled and shook his head at Hanna's suddenly very sad face, "and it would be best to leave before the cracking of dawn, _ja_? I will pay, you can say your goodbyes."  
  
"Aw..." Lenore's shoulders slumped, but then she let out a sigh and nodded. She then turned to Hanna and flashed a smile. "Well, thank you for coming, Mr. Cross. You coming today, accepting all of this... it really means a lot. I should be thanking all of you, really."  
  
"Damn straight," Worth grumbled.  
  
The ten-year old stuck out her tongue at him, then slipped from the booth and turned to face everyone. "Seriously," She gave a bow. "Thank you. For everything."  
  
Hanna grinned, that huge face splitting grin that it seemed only Hanna could manage, and he slipped out under the table, startling Conrad when he knocked into his legs. Once free, he trotted over to Lenore and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. A hug that one'd expect him to give to a sister. Warm and accepting.   
  
"No need to thank me - you're my little sis now, and I just did what families do." He seemed horribly, horribly elated to have something close to a sister.   
  
Golden eyes widened in surprise as Hanna pulled her into a hug that was warm and safe, The girl blinked, clearly confused by this sudden show of affection, something she hadn't had outside of Larden since her parents died and rarely got before then. Then, however, she smiled and hugged him back.  
  
Family. She could get used to this.  
  
Hanna's zombie friend looked on. This certainly wasn't what he'd expected when they'd walked in... but he supposed when it came to Hanna, whom seemed to adopt everyone he met as a close friend regardless of who they were right off the bat... well, he shouldn't have been surprised. His thoughts were interrupted by Worth kicking him in the ankle though, and his brow furrowed as he glanced over at the doctor.  
  
"D'ya think you can handle two of 'em?" Worth asked as he nodded to Lenore and Hanna, raising a brow. An honest question and a somewhat sane concern, really.  
  
The zombie blinked, then looked to the two of them again. Then he smiled. "I think I can manage. Though I suppose I'll have a lot of help."  
  
"Feh," The doctor snorted as he folded his arms. "I dun' do babysittin' shit, you know that.  You can shove 'em all off t' Connie if you need a Mom's day, though." He added, nudging Conrad and smirking.  
  
Conrad frowned at Worth, fists clenching on the table top. "No one's dumping them on me!"  
  
"Heyheyhey guys I have the _best idea ever_!" Hanna pulled away from Lenore, one arm still around her, excited. "Let's all go back with them and we can see how close they live to Conrad!"  
  
"Not tonight, Hanna." Larden, having paid for all the icecream, came up behind them and put a hand on his shoulder. "Maybe another night, _ja_?   
  
This seemed to placate the redhead enough, and he nodded.  
  
Hanna's zombie friend nodded as well, sliding out of the booth. "Seems like a plan to me."  
  
"No kiddin'. The princess here is gonna need t' know how close to ground zero he is," Worth snickered as he more or less shoved poor Conrad out of the booth.   
  
"Mmm." Conrad murmured, shoulder's hunched. This was all the excuse he needed to get a better lock for his door.   
  
"Okay." Hanna picked his frown up from the floor and grinned at Lenore. "See you later, then!" He extended a fist in the most natural 'brofist' movement he could manage.  
  
Lenore blinked in confusion at Hanna's movement, clearly somewhat confused. Then she grinned and mirrored the motion, tiny knuckles bumping against Hanna's. "Yeah... see you later." This done, she turned to Larden and beamed, her hand going out to catch him. "Come on Lar-Lar, let's go! We have homework to do! And also possibly cake!" With those words she began to bound for the door, dragging the vampire behind her and giggling, appearing for all the world like a fairly normal, carefree girl.  
  
You know, unless you considered the vampire she was dragging behind her and the markings, but it was progress from certifiably insane, at least.  
  
The bells on the door rang as the vampire and child exited. There was a second silence as Hanna watched them go, grinning.   
  
"Aw man I can't wait to tell Veser I have an awesome little sister now who has an awesome vampire body guard and I'm teaching her magic!"   
  
"Oh _god_." Conrad let his hand hit his face at the thought of the three of them in the same room.   
  
"And, I know it doesn't seem like the best idea, teaching her magic an all, but it's not like she's learning from an evil guy or something, and I'll be a good teacher." Hanna turned from the door, grinning sheepishly as he spoke.   
  
"Hanna, that's what we're scared of." Conrad groaned.  
  
"It'll be like having the two puppies ya never wanted," Worth said cheerily as he lit yet another cigarette to replace the stub his original one had become. Apparently the positives of having a small child around to bully and assist in bullying various vampires had clicked for him and he was starting to feel pretty good about this.  
  
The zombie shook his head, though there was a smile on his face as well. "I doubt it will be that bad. She seems less willing to torture you, at any rate." He felt calm by this point. It had taken awhile, but things were back to relative norm... which also meant he was in charge of looking after things again, but really, that was how he liked it.  It was up to him to make sure Hanna was okay, and he wouldn't have it any other way.   
  
"Come on Hanna, you need to get home too. I believe you start work again tomorrow," He said, putting his hands into his pockets and turning for the door.  
  
"Aww, man, do I have to go back to work? I like having time off." Hanna frowned.   
  
"Yes, you have to go to work. You've done more than enough free-loading, brat," Worth grunted which was probably Worth-speak for 'I'm glad you're better'. "Anyway, c'mon Fagula. Sun's comin' up, the last thing anyone wants to do is deal wit' is your sorry ass whining 'bout how you were stuck in an ice cream parlor all day." He drawled as he gave Conrad a light kick.  
  
Conrad pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off and grumbling something about too many windows to survive comfortably in there anyway.   
  
"Yeah, Conrad, it'd suck to get stuck in here, especially since you can't even eat any icecream." Hanna was smiling again, like he was always smiling. "I'd say see you tomorrow, Worth, but I don't think you want me to." He chuckled, backpedaling slowly towards the door. "Anyway, c'mon, Mark Anthony, let's get home and maybe we can put one of those tapes into my computer and watch it before we have to return them!" He threw his hands in the air, looking at his zombie friend before stopping at the door.  
  
The zombie nodded as he followed the redhead. "We'll see if we have time," He murmured before glancing back to their two remaining friends. He then gave a small nod, which was the equivalent of a full on goodbye from him.  
  
Worth rolled his eyes in response and lifted two fingers in a light sort of half wave. "I'd better _not_ see ya tomorrow," He declared as he shoved his hands into his grimy pockets. "You stay outta trouble or else, ya got me?"  
  
Both he and the zombie across the room were well aware these words were going to have no effect, but it was important to keep up pretense and all.  
  
"Don't worry about me, Worth, I can handle anything that happens!" Hanna grinned his big, stupid grin, and gave both the vampire and the doctor a small wave, sneakers positioned to spin towards the door. "Okay, g'night everyone! Er, good morning!" He laughed, blue eyes bright as he turned towards the door and the soon to be rising sun.   
  
The day was going to be good, he knew it. He had new friends, old friends, ice cream and more family that he could hope for. It was a good day, and he really knew as he exited into the rising sun.   
  
Because a setting sun was a little too dark for Hanna.


End file.
